


The Consequence of Action

by Fairyglass



Series: Mirror Mirror Universe [5]
Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e06 Point of View, F/F, F/M, Female Daniel Jackson, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairyglass/pseuds/Fairyglass
Summary: Jack all but molests Daniel and Elizabeth Jackson and none of them are sure what to do next.  Well, except Jack; Jack knows exactly what to do: get ripping drunk.  A few days later, SG-1 is sent through on what they expect to be a routine first contact.  But instead, what they find is an Ancient Outpost with a second Stargate.  Things go sideways, Carter and Daniel captured and Elizabeth shot.  It's up to Teal'c and Jack to get everyone home, even if Jack goes overboard in the process.





	The Consequence of Action

**Author's Note:**

> I’d also like to humbly dedicate this to LiveJournal's Whisper99. Because, really. This is (still) all her fault.
> 
> Original WIP February 2006 // Revisited and Finished July 2008

“Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stupid son of a bitch!” Jack O’Neill went through another round of assaulting the cab of his truck. He punched the ceiling above his head, slammed his palms into the steering wheel, lashed out with his boot when he didn’t need it for the clutch, scrambled around with his free hand to find yet another random object to hurl towards the passenger side window. This time it was a fist full of maps he fished out between the seats. It had been the emergency flashlight earlier and the window suffered in unshed, spider web laced safety glass for it. His hands hurt and his car was a mess but both paled next to turmoil roiling around inside of him.

What in the HELL had he been thinking? WHY did he do… that!? ANY of that? He wrenched the steering wheel right, turning onto his block with a soft pop and squeal of tires. There was going to be a _lot_ of drinking in his very near future.

. : ~*~ : .

Reaching down with his own shaky hand, Daniel helped Elizabeth back up onto her feet where they swayed into one other. It was a moment of lightheadedness and shallow breathing and hearts that were beating too erratically. Together they turned towards the closed door, feeling as if they should to go after Jack, chase him down, ask questions, demand answers. And they would, just as soon as they could each stand without the other’s help.

Daniel tried to ask, “What was…?” his voice breaking and cracking over the words. His eyes were wild, hair falling into them. It wasn't just fight or flight thrumming through him, and it wasn't even desire or lust. It was all of it, all at once, tied suddenly into a Gordian knot in the pit of his stomach. Ellie could only shake her head, a hand pressing against her kiss-swollen mouth. She could still feel the movement of Jack against her, a delicious fever throughout her entire body. She shook herself gently in Daniel's arms.

“Drunk?”

“Did you… uhm, taste…?”

“No. Uhm. Residual alien influence…?”

“Hell of an incubation period.”

“Daniel…?” Elizabeth's voice sounded small, far away.

“I– I don’t know,” Daniel sighed, shaking his head in confused bewilderment.

They weren’t going to chase him down. Not now, not like this. Not that they figured Jack would let himself be chased down. If either of them knew him, they’d know he was already down in his truck and causing several moving violations out on the streets. And even if they did, somehow, miraculously manage to get their hands on him… what would they say?

The truth of the matter was neither of them had the slightest idea what had just happened. Happened to Jack, or happened inside themselves. It had all been so fast and so achingly demanding and so… so something that made them avoid eye contact with one another while their cheeks burned even as they stood face to face with bracing hands on one another.

Pulling her to himself, Daniel buried his head against the crook of Elizabeth’s neck and simply stood holding onto her fiercely. He was lost and confused and Elizabeth was one of the few real comforts he could take and accept in his life, guilt free. And he needed her because… because what the hell had just happened? Had Jack really-- and why would he-- Elizabeth, okay. Strange, but okay. But him? And him first? And why hadn’t Daniel simply pulled back and punched Jack O’Neill right in the nose? Why-- why had he kissed back? He couldn't pretend he hadn't wondered, once, maybe twice. But it had always been in passing daydream, never anything rooted to reality. Jack was Jack, and his friend, and one who was married to Sara once, and twice married to a Sam, so never.... And that had been very real, almost too real, every moment burned forever more through every cell of his being. And so fast. Just, so fast.

Elizabeth could feel the heat of Daniel’s blush against the column of her throat, a bright spot against her flesh. And somehow was able to distinguish it from the heat of her own. She let her hands whisper and pet against the man who wrapped himself around her, offering what comfort she could; taking from him what he was offering back, his own hands moving against her in soothing circles. She tucked herself up under his chin, further complicating the knot they made of themselves.

Against her shoulder, Daniel’s head was rocking side to side in a half finished gestures of denial. She knew there were any number of things, real and made up, Daniel could be blaming himself for; what exactly he was choosing to chastise himself over at this particular moment, Elizabeth couldn’t be sure. All she knew right then was that she couldn’t stop her tongue from pressing into all the spots inside her mouth where Jack had done… whatever it was Jack had suddenly done to her.

It wasn't like she'd never-- because, obviously, she had. But Jack loved Sam. He had always loved Sam. Jacks loved Sams, that was a universal constant. So why would _this_ Jack... and to Daniel, too? Nothing made sense. It was frightening, even terrifying, and yet, it was also.... 

While breathing deeply against Daniel's chest, the corner of Elizabeth Jackson's mouth tugged up into a tiny, excited, smile.

. : ~*~ : .

They spent the night on the couch, Daniel tucked into a corner while Elizabeth tucked herself up against him, their arms wound around each other tight and protective. Two sets of glasses knocked against each other on the abandoned Scrabble game, two sets of toes peeking out from under the throw blanket, two people who missed taking their antihistamines snoring softly. They’d kept all the lights on.

When Elizabeth’s bladder began making demands, she cracked an eye towards the clock and read ten thirty. It was a Friday morning. There was no confusion, no puzzled fuzzy moment where she had to try and remember why she was here, uncomfortable and stiff with Daniel, like this — it wasn’t just crystal clear, but brilliantly illuminated. A bright, bare bulb in her mind that cast an unforgiving light on everything. Under her Daniel stirred, his sleepy snuffles tickling her behind her ear.

“You,” she told him. “Coffee. Me, pee.” It was a rough cut order issued in a sleep graveled voice, but standard fare for a recently conscience Jackson. He nodded, mumbling some sort of inarticulate agreement as they went about untangling themselves. Short, concise orders were issued and received best when they were in this state, something they were used to with one another. They shuffled in their respective directions, massaging lower backs and necks.

When she left the bathroom where she’d not only peed but splashed water on her face and pulled a comb through her hair, Elizabeth came face to face with Daniel in the doorway. Looking at Daniel always reminded her of looking into a mirror, but maybe a fun house mirror: everything was only almost accurate but close enough to make you double-take painfully.

Those were her eyes, her cheekbones, the same angle of her nose, the same natural pout of her mouth, the same long lines to his throat as hers, a stubborn set of the jaw that did more than just resemble the other lightly but still left each with a gender specific quality. Daniel’s was strong, Elizabeth’s determined, and when put together presented the SGC with resolute chin-lifts that moved not just mountains but mountain ranges.

But Daniel was a good four inches taller then herself and so necessitated her casting an eye up in his direction. His hair seemed darker in its shorter cut to her shoulder length even if it was the same texture, same thickness. His shoulders broad where hers were narrow. Their palms were both square with long fingers, but Daniel’s hand had substance where Elizabeth’s was slender. They were the same design, simply reimplemented. All the same bits and most of the pieces, reinterrupted.

It seemed egotistical of Elizabeth to consider Daniel Jackson a handsome man, but she did anyway. Quietly, in the very back of her mind. She’d laugh to know Daniel felt likewise, both about her as well as the dangers it presented his ego. He similarly kept it tucked away from his every day thoughts. Not that it was likely either would say anything anyway about such things. As it was, they easily passed for twins and they often left it at that. The neighbors had had to be told something after all.

Presumably Daniel was standing here to do his own morning necessities in the bathroom, and the siren song of brewing coffee was enough to tempt her down the hallway and leave him to it. But instead, Elizabeth reached out and wound her arms around his chest, holding onto him, almost clutching, almost clinging. Everything was pounding through her skull all at once, a rush that left her knees weak and her head dizzy, threatening to sweep her over an edge she didn’t even know she’d been standing by. Without hesitation, Daniel wound himself just as tightly around her, just as fiercely. She buried her face against his shoulder and he felt her confused scowl shift and twist.

“I’m so… lost,” she confessed to the buttons of his shirt.

“I know,” he whispered back, his chin resting just against her temple. “Me too. I’m sorry.”

Jack had really done a number on them last night, put questions into their minds they couldn’t easily answer, if really they could ever answer at all. Without their permission, he’d changed all the rules but had also kept the new play book to himself. What did it all mean? Why would Jack even do such a thing like this? And what were they supposed to do now.

. : ~*~ : .

It was just after 2pm when they finally pulled into Jack’s driveway. They had had to eat, shower, change -- as well as simply try and collect their thoughts in the bright light of day. Reason continued to elude them, but they didn’t feel they could put off going to see Jack any longer then they already had. If nothing else, they were worried about Jack, and what he might have done after he left them. He wasn’t exactly known for his rational thinking when upset, General Hammond’s car window a testament from Daniel's "funeral".

His truck actually took up most of the space, parked crookedly as it was, but there was still just enough room for Daniel to pull his jeep up and off the street. They wore jeans, he a loose pullover v-neck, she a hooded sweatshirt with a blouse. Something had told them to come dressed for work.

There was a shared moment of concern when they came up on the truck’s broken passenger side window, but there wasn’t any blood or any other obvious damage. A peek inside the trashed cab left them confidant it was less a traffic violation and more simple rage that’d caused the problem. Not that that was any more comforting, really.

They each took a deep breath as they came up onto the porch, exchanging one last glance before Daniel reached out and knocked sharply on the door. Then he knocked again. Elizabeth rung the often ignored doorbell. Another knock.

“Should I…?” Daniel was reaching for his keys; they each had a copy of Jack’s house key. And for his cabin in Minnesota. It came standard with your SG-1 patch. But neither was all that eager to burst in on an unsuspecting Jack O’Neill.

Suddenly the door shook as something crash landed on the other side. They flinched, heads snapping back to forward. There was some uncoordinated rattling around the doorknob until eventually the door jerked open wide before them. Jack stood framed by the sill looking like one incredibly successful frat party. Despite the sunglasses he was wearing, he frowned out at them, eyebrows drawing heavy over his forehead. He was wearing the same thing he had been last night except for one missing shoe and sock, the other ready to go as it were, and his hair had taken on new and exotic angles.

Jack O’Neill wasn’t hung over -- Jack O’Neill was still very drunk.

The Jackson’s exchanged a glance before Daniel reached out and strong armed the man back into his house. Not that it was a particularly difficult task; Jack stumbled backwards, almost tripping as they all came in. Daniel kept him upright, but continued success was questionable for a second until he got both hands wrapped firmly under Jack’s shoulders.

Jack didn’t just look like a successful frat party, he also smelled like one. Elizabeth couldn’t help but bring her hand up under her nose. “Whoa.”

“You get coffee going,” Daniel told her, already steering Jack carefully towards the hallway. “I’ll do what I can with this.” For the second time that day there was respective shuffling in two different directions, but one always led to coffee when a Dr. Jackson was around.

. : ~*~ : .

Daniel rather unceremoniously pushed the staggering Jack down into his bedroom, then into his master bathroom where he left the man slumped on the toilet seat while he got the shower going. Jack still hadn’t said anything and still wore his sunglasses inside. Daniel didn’t particularly care about the temperature of the water, but he did his best to make sure it wasn’t either frigid or scalding. Mostly he just wanted ‘on’ and ‘wet’ from the shower. This was a wake up call not a delousing.

“C’mon, Jack. In you go.” Daniel had given a fleeting moment of thought to trying to at least get Jack’s jeans off for him -- then quickly discarded the idea.

The stall had one of those fancy benches built in, and Daniel tucked Jack into it clothing and eyewear and single shoe and all. He made sure the faucet was turned on him, but kept it low enough so that even if the man passed out it wouldn't drown him. The distinct lack of protest on Jack’s part worried him a bit, but Daniel firmly slid the glass door closed anyway. The other doors -- the bathroom door, the bedroom door and the hall door -- he left open, hoping he’d hear something if anything went wrong.

The living room was a complete disaster area when he passed through it. Beer bottles were everywhere, so many it was disturbing to think they'd all been drunk by one person. Bottlecaps crunched under foot like leaves on a forest path. And then Daniel could see the line up of empty hard liquor bottles on the ledge that hung into the living room from the formal dining room. There… were a lot of them.

“You doing okay, El?” Daniel wrinkled his nose as he came into the kitchen because --

“No. I cannot even begin to articulate how not okay I am doing.” Making coffee wasn’t even in the cards. Pale, but with two bright spots in her cheeks, Elizabeth hung against the doorjamb and regarded the absolute lake of vomit that was now the kitchen floor. Jack had done an entire platoon of marines proud. Marines that had been on extended leave. In Tijuana. God, could one man really throw that much up?

Dishes littered the counters, one of the kitchen table chairs was knocked over and some distance away from the table itself. The pantry door was still cracked open and it looked like at some point Jack had tried to get something, or find something, and had instead pulled an entire shelf of canned goods down. There didn’t seem to be a corner where Hurricane O’Neill hadn’t touched down in one way or another.

Luckily, the spare trash bags were where they were supposed to be and Daniel opened one up and tilted it towards Elizabeth in offering. She made a disgusted sound from the back of her throat, but nodded. “We’d have better luck just bringing a hose in here, honestly.”

“Probably.”

“Have you had to do this before?”

“No,” but it was a drawn out sound, one that eluded to at least something similar in the past.

“God,” was all Elizabeth could manage for a second. “What’d you do with him?” She was looking for the mop she thought lived behind the pantry door.

“I dumped him in the shower. Hopefully he won’t drown.” Daniel reached between the wall and the refrigerator, pulling the mop out and handing it over with a sad, reluctant twist of his mouth.

It took them just over three hours to really get the place clean again. Bottles and more bottles had to be collected from some truly bizarre locations. Using the second bathroom, Elizabeth had heard a strange clunking sound when she flushed the toilet and had subsequently pulled half a bottle of Schnapps out of the tank. They found another spot where Jack had lost his dinner in a corner. He had thoughtfully tried to remedy the situation by pushing a speaker from his stereo system on top of it. Who knew one man could do so much damage and destruction in such a relatively short amount of time.

Jack’s entire liquor cabinet had been raided and Elizabeth actually worried a bit about alcohol poisoning and considered calling Janet more than once. Daniel kept checking in on him, but a lot of his reports consisted of “he’s still just sitting there”. Eventually Daniel could report that Jack had removed his second shoe, but kept on his sock. That Jack had thrown his sunglasses out into the bathroom and seemed to be lapping the water up as it ran down the glass shower door. The biggest news came just before Elizabeth was making her third trip to the garage’s trash cans when Daniel let her know Jack was actually using soap. On his shirt, yes, but it was coordinated motor skill. Sort of. She just pointed Daniel at the vacuum cleaner and went to sort the recycling.

. : ~*~ : .

“Explain to me again why I thought he was so devastatingly handsome?” Elizabeth and Daniel were sitting around Jack’s newly sparkling clean kitchen enjoying nothing stronger than bottled water. “This was the most disgusting afternoon I’ve ever spent, and I’ve worked with rotting mummies in tombs in the middle of godforsaken lands.”

Daniel could only clear his throat awkwardly and blush against his will. It was easier for Ellie to admit… things. Not that he had anything to ‘admit’, he quickly corrected himself. He had a wife, after all. A beautiful wife he loved and who loved him and who was waiting for him, somewhere out in the universe, to save her. Beautiful, wonderful Sha’re. The occasional _what if_ daydream may be pleasant, but it was still just a daydream and when it passed you went back on living in the here and now. Jack was one of his best friends and his team leader and that's where he was always going to be. Until last night upended everything.

Daniel cleared his throat a second time. God did he suddenly feel trapped. Trapped by what, or who, or why -- was anyone’s guess. But trapped was how he felt as he hid behind his water.

“Sleeping?” Elizabeth raised her own water bottle to her lips, missing Daniel's discomfort to seek confirmation on his last “State of Jack" report.

“Yeah. He’d made it back into his bedroom. Or,” his hand pinwheeled. “He made it to his bedroom floor. I got him out of the wet clothes and under the covers. Though I don’t know if it’s so much ’sleeping’ as just ‘passed out’.” He cocked his head to the side, letting it move into a shrug. He decided not to mention that Jack may or may not have copped a lazy feel of his ass as he'd hoisted the man into bed, nor the decadently lecherous look Jack flashed the ceiling when his head had rolled back. It was probably just the awkward angle they'd been at when he'd hoisted the man into bed, limbs akimbo, and a trick of the half-light from the single lamp he dared.

He thought more desperately of Sha’re, as if the memories of her would shield him from... whatever these feelings were. Then he drank more water.

“Okay, well. So...?” Working on a blush of her own, Elizabeth hooked her hip against the counter’s edge and wiggled herself up onto the counter top. “What do we… do now?”

“Do we… stay?”

“Someone should be here with him. He could still seriously hurt himself.” Or the house. Again.

“But -- us?”

“Well, that would be the flaw in that particular plan of action.”

They shared a thoughtful, pouting expression. “It has to be us. We have to stay,” Daniel concluded for them, head shaking as he motioned with his hand. “What would he say to Teal’c? Or Sam?”

“Dan-niel.”

“E-liz-abeth.”

“But what about--”

“I don’t see him getting up any time soon. That… that gives us time to talk.” There were more flushed cheeks and eye contact to be avoided all around.

She bit at her mouth before finally shaking her head in reluctant acceptance. “Fine. But I want pizza. I don’t have it in me to cook. Or trust we got all the puke up off the floor. Just a good, old fashion pepperoni and cheese.”

Daniel tried to smile encouragingly. “Right.”

. : ~*~ : .

It was pizza and pop out on the deck as the stars came out. Daniel sat with his back against a post while Elizabeth faced him cross legged. They could each see through the sliding glass door… just in case.

“So,” he started.

“So,” she added helpfully.

“Devastatingly handsome?”

Elizabeth had a smirk which she directed towards her bent knee when she let her chin drop. “You’ve had to have seen him in his dress uniform by this point. With those sunglasses of his.”

Not the pair Jack had been sporting earlier, but The Other Ones. The aviator sunglasses. Daniel didn’t even need a clarification, he knew which ones Elizabeth was talking about. The very fact that she didn’t need to clarify which sunglasses sent a delicious shiver down their spines.

Daniel hid behind the plastic bottle of his soda. “Well, yes. Of course.” He worked at sounding nonchalant unsuccessfully.

“When Sam-- Doctor Carter-- had come to work on the project under the mountain and not just from Area 51... it was kind of obvious. The two of them.” Elizabeth toyed with a half eaten piece of crust. She didn’t talk much about her SGA and Daniel never pressed the issue. He could only imagine the pain it brought her. “I’d been ‘with’ Jack for years on SG-1, but... yeah. He just never looked at me the way he looked at her. Which. Was fine. I had Skaa’ra, even if I didn’t “have” Skaa’ra. Because he was out there, still possessed by Klorel. But. You know. So it never really became an issue.” Her hand moved with her as she spoke, filling in as content to her broken sentences.

She turned her face to look out over the backyard. Lightning bugs danced in the dandelions, the pink of sunset giving the landscape a fairytale quality. You could whisper your secrets in fairytales, because fairytales weren’t real afterall, and that made it safe to share. It was like sighing into a dream.

Half remembered missions drifted behind her closed eyes, trips her SG-1 had taken through their Stargate. Times when she’d stood shoulder to shoulder with Colonel O’Neill, meeting a people for the first time. Standing toe to toe with him as they argued over the best course of action. His hand on her arm as he tugged her back out of the line of fire, his hands on her back as he shoved her forward for the same reasons. The way their fingers innocently brushed across each other when passing folders over or turning whatever amazing artifacts around. Of Jack -- her Jack, the ‘real’ Jack -- bending in close to whisper in her ear with his crisp voice as they gathered Intel on their own Gou’ld System Lords.

The familiar ache of longing and guilt washed right over her like it hadn’t been missing for a day. She loved Sam and Jack, and loved them together. They were people you enjoyed watching being in love and they were her friends. She had been in their wedding and they were all the family she had had. But that didn’t stop her for wanting a little something like that for herself. Even if it was only stolen moments that she could elaborate on later when alone, always alone.

Her tongue pressed silently all around her mouth again, hunting for the memory. So why had this Jack.... _This_ Jack had a Sam, too. Sure a military Sam, but did that really make so much of a difference? And then why Daniel? Why-- why never just her. Not that Daniel wasn’t “her”. Sort of. God. Why did there always have to be... complications.

“My Jack was also a lot more... more buzz cut, less rakish smirk. And no Simpsons. You’ve done a better job with your Jack then I did mine. You somehow got yours to remember he was human. I just got him to realize that, with enemies like Ra in the universe, he still had a duty to defend rather then throw it all away for Charlie. It took Sam to get his heart beating again.” Elizabeth’s shrug was self deprecating, eyes wet.

“But.” Her smile was sad as she watched the soft, bobbing glowbugs over the lawn, eyes on a distant yesterday found in another time and another place. “Devastatingly handsome.”

Reaching out, Daniel’s fingers brushed against her arm. His expression was soft and pained, sympathetic on levels he couldn’t yet dare admit to himself.

“So what about you, Dr. Jackson,” Elizabeth delivered rhetorically, fingers wiping surreptitiously at her tears, her voice crisp as if she already knew the answer. “Know what it’s like to desperately love two people at once?” She brought her knee up to rest her chin on, pulling her attention back around to focus solely on Daniel.

It was there in his face and obvious in the way he nervously licked his lips, and while he may have fooled anyone else, played it as something else in a bashful dip of his head and toss of his hair, Daniel couldn’t do that with her. You could lie to most anyone else in a world -- but rarely yourself.

He frowned painfully hard as a response, knowing he was trapped into answering but unable to face it for what it really was. He turned to watch her fireflies in the dandelions. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He stalled.

Elizabeth was genuinely puzzled. “It’s supposed to mean exactly what it sounds like.”

“I’m a very happily married man--

“--whose wife is currently being held prisoner in her own body. Your mission is righteous, your enduring love for her noble.” Her voice lifted, seizing the moment as only a practiced lecturer could. “And none of that changes the fact you’re a living, breathing human being with two eyes and a beating heart.” Was he really trying to tell her.... She had two eyes too. And knew better.

“What are you looking for me to say, Elizabeth?” He was angry at her now. It was like being angry at the niggling thoughts you had in the back of your mind when you wanted to fool yourself into believing something you knew wasn’t really believable.

“I’m.... Oh, Daniel.” Compassion flooded her face, her own hand reaching out to brush against his shoulder. “I’m truly the last person in the world who would ever judge you. There isn’t anything to be ashamed of.” And then sudden inspiration made her add, “Or be guilty of. It’s very natural to have feelings for more than one person. And it isn’t as if you’re-- And lots of cultures, even on Abydos--”

Daniel’s voice was low, but hard and sure, like the dull sound a tumbling lock makes in a thick door. “No. Not even-- no. Jack and I are good friends. You could even say ‘best friends’. But I’ve ... and last night....”

“Daniel, it isn’t as if it’s an imposs--”

“No.” He pressed his lips together firmly.

She knew he was in denial. Maybe he didn’t realize it, she’d allow him that, but he was. She knew it because she knew that, if her Jack had done what his Jack had done while her Skaa’ra was still alive, and she was harboring the secret feelings she knew she had, Elizabeth would try and deny things too. Maybe under different circumstances she -- and he -- would have been able to rationally sort through the mix of emotions, but right now? And by the method in which he was being forced to deal with them?

Daniel wasn’t the only Jackson who used “reverse emotional engineering” to understand their doppleganger.

But it was also the first time she’d really given thought to the fact both Jack and Daniel were men. With all the emotional trappings of men. Even Daniel, who was she, but not. Not here. To Elizabeth, they were just “Jack” and “Daniel”, neigh-platonic concepts so ingrained inside her as to transcend something simple like gender. And while obviously aware they were men nonetheless, it was almost a comical detail for her to have missed. But one that might pose a problem she’d never even thought to consider. Never had reason to consider, really. Daniel wouldn’t deny how he felt just because Jack was another man, would he? That just seemed so... not like her. Which meant not like Daniel.

But there he sat, scowling, trying to tell her his stomach didn’t flip each time Jack O’Neill sauntered and swaggered around in his dress blues. Lit a room up with his thousand watt smirk. Cut a salute off the sharp brim of his cap. And she knew that had to be bullshit.

Right? The question gave her pause. They were so similar, Elizabeth to Daniel, so nearly identical. But could this really be something different? But then why had Jack... and she had seen the way Daniel had responded, with her own two eyes, she’d seen them, giving as much as taking.

They each pulled in a deep breath, holding it before letting it out slowly. Normally it’d be behavior they’d chuckle over, but right now, even their identical body language couldn’t haul them from their individual thoughts.

All the talking they were going to do ground to a halt in the setting Colorado sun.

. : ~*~ : .

“Oh, God.” Or, it tried to be “Oh, God.” What actually came out of Jack’s mouth as he lurched into a roll was “Uh ahgh.” He thought long and hard about puking against his pillow but ultimately decided against it. Jack wasn’t really sure he had anything left in him to puke even if he had wanted to, and wasn’t exactly keen on finding out either way. He had too many recent memories of letting it hit the deck in his kitch–

Wait.

Jack pawed at himself with both hands. His bed was disgustingly wet but not disgustingly wet with anything disgusting and he was in a pair of sopping shorts. He remembered the shower, so figured that’s where all the wetness came from. He’d been in the shower for a long, long time. He’d even been thirsty in the shower so had licked the water off the door? Truly one of his finer moments in life. How had he even managed to get himself into the shower? Lord, who knew. Slowly he inched his way to the edge of the bed so he could read what time it was.

He couldn’t do that though. In front of the glowing green numbers was a glass of water, a pill bottle, and a big note that said ‘Take two. Drink the whole glass.’ Jack squinted down at the handwriting. Thinking hurt. He slammed and then ground a palm into his forehead.

O’Neill was pretty sure it was a Jackson’s handwriting. Another trick of the great cosmos: different hands, different grips on a pencil, signatures so identical experts had problems telling them apart. Graphologists the military over had gone insane.

With some extreme effort, Jack pushed himself up to sitting and reached for the bottle. Frasier’s own Super Duper Just Back From Off World and Oh God the Laserbeam Burns Hurt pain killers. Yeah, that all sounded about right. He shook two out -- and then shook out a third, tossing them back into his mouth and drinking the whole glass as ordered.

So Daniel had been by. Or maybe Elizabeth. There was a dim memory somewhere of Daniel telling him in the shower he’d get cleaner if he took his shirt off, but he couldn’t be sure if that had been real or not.

There was an equally as dim memory of Elizabeth giving him a disappointed look in his hallway, but that might have been before he got the idea to hide the Schnapps from the NID. Not that he thought the NID wanted his Schnapps. Not any more, anyway. Because he’d hid it good, right? She wouldn’t have looked at him like that if she knew he was onto the NID and had taken appropriate actions.

Wow had he been drunk.

A shower. A shower sounded good -- great -- right now. You knew you were bad when you could smell yourself, and right now he had no trouble smelling what had to be one-hundred and ten proof oozing out of his pores.

“Shower. Clean shorts. Crash in the guest room. Deal with sheets later.” Sounded good. Sounded like a plan he could actually follow. Just as soon as the floor stopped trying to slide out from under his feet. The clock read 0142 hours, 1:42 in the morning. Oh and look, his sunglasses. He needed these. For the shower.

. : ~*~ : .

Elizabeth stirred against his shoulder and his eyes slid opened of their own volition. There was something else, not just this. Water. Daniel could hear the water running. That meant Jack was awake. He blinked myopically at his wrist watch, trying to make the numbers come into focus just long enough to tell him the time.

They’d hijacked the spare bedroom. There had been a brief argument about who was going to take the bed and who was going to take the couch in the living room, but then Ellie had set her foot down that they’d just share. If Daniel was going to insist they stay until he woke up, then this was her concession, because like hell did she want to be alone in Jack O’Neill’s house right now.

Licking his lips, Daniel’s voice broke into the silent room. “Hey.” Nothing.

“Hey,” Daniel tried again, knocking his shoulder against Elizabeth’s temple gently. That got him a grumpy sound and some idle shoving with sleepy hands. “He’s taking a shower.”

“Don’ use alla hot water.”

“Ellie. He’s awake, he’s taking a shower.” There was nothing again, but it was a different kind of nothing. It was the nothing of quiet thought, not sleep filled oblivion. She took a deep breath besides him and then he felt the bed move and shift as she sat up.

“Okay.” Then the sound of her hands in her hair. “So now what.” It wasn’t so much a question as a demand of him. This had been his idea, he could come up with the next step.

“Well, uhm.” Sitting up himself, he ran a hand of his own through his hair and then started to bat for his glasses on the nightstand. The back of Elizabeth’s hand hit him in the chest meaningfully, and when he touched it he found she had his glasses. She was already wearing hers when he finally got a clear look at his watch. Little after two.

“He might just go back to bed,” she said hopefully. “Just shower and go back to sleep.”

“Maybe.” But that wasn’t what Daniel’s gut told him. “I’m gonna… I’m just going to go put some coffee on. Just in… case.”

Elizabeth sighed a big, heaped upon sigh. “Yeah.”

. : ~*~ : .

What Jack wouldn’t give for one of those sarcophagus thingies right now. Yeah they were dangerous and yeah they could make you crazy, but he was desperate for a measure of relief. He was almost positive eyelashes weren’t supposed to suffer, but his were.

He managed to yank some sweats on before stumbling out and down into the hall. His entire agenda consisted of slamming himself face first into the spare bed and maybe pulling the blanket up over him if he thought to remember.

So he was a little thrown off by the light coming from the kitchen. The house was dark otherwise, so the single light sent fingers out into the living room and down into the hall to tickle against Jack’s feet on the carpet. Maybe he’d left it on. He was having a great deal of difficulty remembering much of anything, actually. That was probably it. He’d just forgotten to hit the light on his way out, whenever that might have been. Nothing to worry about and certainly something that could hold until tomorrow.

But then he heard the low, growly sound of Daniel Jackson’s sleepy laughter. A long, slow breath made its escape out of Jack and he suddenly had to lean against the wall. Panic gripped his middle and that alone threatened to unbalance the delicate peace treaty he’d made with his body. And he was positive Daniel wasn’t in there alone; he might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer at the moment, but even a cursory listen-in told Jack that Daniel was talking to someone and they were answering back in whispers. There were three guesses who Daniel was talking to, and the first two weren’t going to count.

"Oh, hell," he mumbled.

. : ~*~ : .

“Have you ever…” Elizabeth was sitting back up on the counter, her hands wrapped around a coffee cup tightly as she watched the liquid swirl and swirl around. Daniel was standing besides her, backside up against the edge. They were each staring unfocused at some forward point in space. “Have you ever given thought to the fact… our last name is ‘Jackson’, and he’s, well. Jack’? Jack’s Son? He’s older, has a tendency to over protect and coddle, and is our team leader? I mean, what are the etymological chances of something like that happening.”

Yes, Daniel had thought of that before, but where as it’d been an academically amusing coincidence to him previously, Ellie’s tone of voice was spinning it in different directions. She made it sound fated instead of happenstance. It made him frown in thought and hum behind a sip of coffee.

Which is how Jack found them when he came stumbling through the doorway. Like throwing a switch, they looked up at him in unison, their blue eyes big behind their glasses and creased in just a bit of startled fear.

They all spent a moment looking one another over. Jack’s hair was sticking up in comical angles and he’d put his sunglasses back on despite the fact that, not only was he inside, but it was now just after 2:30 in the morning. He was in sweatpants and that was about it. And even those were hanging low on his hips as if the effort to pull them all the way on was just too much.

Elizabeth and Daniel had done more then just hijack the spare bedroom: they’d raided the dryer and were now standing side by side in Jack’s USAF sweats, Jack’s spare black BDU shirts, and Jack’s athletic socks. Instinctually they set their coffees down, one wrapping his arms around himself, the other fidgeting her fingers together.

Jack waved his hand in a broad arch around the kitchen. “Wasn’t there...?” He grimaced.

“We… took care of it. This afternoon.” Daniel ended on a thoughtful pout, watching Jack with concern. Despite the… ‘incident’, Jack was still his friend and this had been one hell of a bender he’d sent himself on. The worse Daniel had ever seen in the almost four years of knowing him.

“Took care of it?” An uncertain hand went to rest against the breakfast bar, the other on his semi-bare hip, but it was more of an uncoordinated flapping of limbs then the care free gesture Jack was looking for.

“Uhm, yes.” Licking her lips, Ellie looked first at Daniel then Jack. “We kind of cleaned the place up. It was--”

“Disgusting.” Daniel wasn’t going to let Elizabeth slide in a polite euphemism. Jack needed some facts right now; he looked kind of lost, truthfully. Facts would give the man something to build off of.

Jack gave an eloquent “Ah,” before hooking a finger around his sunglasses. He lowered them, considering, before pushing them back up. “Could I have some of that?” His chin jutted towards the coffee maker.

Silently the Jackson’s went to work, Ellie handing Daniel a mug, Daniel pouring, Ellie finding the cream. It was a little production line that made a third cup of coffee for the evening. And then suddenly Elizabeth found herself holding it and was she just supposed to hand it over to Jack? Put it on the table? What exactly was the protocol here.

Daniel finally pulled the mug from her hands and extended it over towards Jack. He seemed equally as unsure, his eyebrows jogging behind his sunglasses in half-seen patterns. Eventually he took it and buried his nose inside with a sloppy slurp.

“So.” It was Jack’s best Colonel’s Voice. It was roughed and cracked from his hangover, but the timbre was strong and sure and broached no argument. “The other night.” As if choreographed, the Jackson’s wrapped their arms around themselves, matching pensive expressions in place. It made Jack set his mouth into a hard, thin line, firming his resolution better than anything else they could have done.

“Nothing happened except a tremendous mistake in judgment. So it just didn’t happen. Nope. Nada. Zip. We’re just, whoosh.” His palm folded, fingers pulling out from under to sail away. “Moving on.”

Elizabeth’s frown was hurt and incredulous. She shifted her stance before opening her mouth. “Jack, you can’t possibly--”

“Aht!” It was a bark of an order that quickly made O’Neill wince. He slid a hand up the side of his face, pulling his cheek with it. “No. We’re not having this discussion. Because there’s no discussion. It would only get stupid and ugly and messy and we just can’t afford that.”

“Jack.” Now Daniel was trying to protest, his shoulder brushing Ellie’s as he squared himself.

“No!” Another wince. “No. Daniel. Elizabeth. Just... trust me. It isn’t worth it.” The kitchen chair squeaked loudly in protest as Jack pulled it out and protested again when gracelessly dropped down into it. “We’re SG-1. We don’t make tremendous mistakes in judgment.”

Which was of course news to Elizabeth and Daniel both. Because wasn’t that sort of in their job descriptions as the civilian specialists of SG-1?

They just watched him, shoulder to shoulder, their tension and concern palpable. It was more then Jack could handle at the moment, so he just set his forehead down behind the wall of his folded arms. When he started to snore, the Jackson’s figured that really was that. At least for tonight.

Rather then stay and make for further awkwardness in the morning, they changed back into their clothes and left for home. Jack O’Neill didn’t seem to notice a thing.

. : ~*~ : .

Jack had approximately three days to make a swift and complete recovery and he used every trick he’d learned in academy to get himself back up to speed before Doc Frasier’s prelim mission examination. He also slept every night in his guest bedroom. He didn’t let himself think about it. It was just where he went when he was too exhausted to sit not-watching television anymore. At least he wasn’t dreaming.

He had made it a point to avoid all of SG-1 that following week, not just the Doctors’ Jackson. A real Equal Opportunity kind of guy. Which had served Elizabeth and Daniel just fine; after the one, aborted attempt at finding resolution, they hadn’t touched on it or spoken about it since. Talking to Jack wasn’t going to happen, and talking it out between themselves led to awkward, tense silence. Both seemed comfortable if not exactly thrilled to just leave it alone and bury themselves in their work. Jack was sleeping in a guest bedroom. The Jackson’s just weren’t sleeping: that was what coffee was for.

Teal’c noticed it first, but had been gently rebuffed by the Jackson’s and not so gently told to mind his own business by O’Neill. Sam was wrapped up in some energy emitting device SG-5 had found, so was temporarily oblivious. Otherwise there might have been some rough cornering and liberal applications of chocolate walnut cookies to Daniel or Elizabeth. Samantha Carter knew how to get answers when she wanted them.

For all the hiding and ducking Jack did, he couldn’t skip out of Thursday’s briefing for the obvious reasons and got himself a calculated scrutiny from Carter and a cool reception from Teal’c for his troubles. Daniel and Elizabeth flanked Sam and neither could bring themselves to look at him. Look around him when absolutely necessary, but not at. Jack didn’t even try to make any of his usual bad jokes, just folding himself into the seat between the table’s head and where Teal’c was currently ignoring him.

Hammond didn’t know what was going on, but it made him uncomfortable. The General didn’t like sending any team out into the field unless he thought they were one-hundred percent, but even less so the flagship of the Stargate Program, SG-1.

George had cornered Jack before the meeting and pulled him into his office for an ‘off the record’ chat, but O’Neill had been supremely unhelpful in explaining the sudden tension between them all. “We’re fine,” was all he would give. Hammond had frowned, because obviously they weren’t, but felt as if his hands were tied. Whatever was setting the members of this team on edge, it wasn’t anything he himself could put a finger on. He had no choice but to rely on SG-1s commanding officer, and the commanding officer had told him they were fine.

The Air Force rarely took “funny feeling about things” into the equation, so if Colonel O’Neill said SG-1 was ready, General Hammond was obligated to go with that. He sat down to his post at the head of the conference table, giving Major Carter the go ahead to begin.

. : ~*~ : .

“Cold,” Daniel huffed, breathing into his gloves before remote controlling the equipment FRED out of the way. Jack and Sam were using the scope lights of their P90s to scout the immediate area while Teal’c stalked the parameter.

“Hey, found the DHD.” Elizabeth’s voice echoed from the corner she was investigating. Sam joined her in double-checking all was well with the device. Rocks and boulders littered the area just outside the event horizon of the Stargate, but the device looked to be in tact.

Jack aimed his light in their direction. “Everything good over there?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said with a bob of her head, wiping a hand through the thick dust coating the red crystal. Elizabeth looked over the major’s shoulder, holding Jack’s line of sight. That was the third Significant Look Elizabeth Jackson had given him since Hammond had given them the green light. Jack just sighed, pushing the Colonel back to the front of his mind as he turned away.

“O’Neill.” It was Teal’c over the radio.

“Go ahead.”

“I believe I have found an opening. It is still partially covered, but I can see starlight.”

Starlight, huh? “I’mma comin’.” He turned his head, seeing Daniel holding a flashlight in each hand for Carter and Elizabeth to work by as they unloaded the FRED. Daniel Jackson, in turn, had done everything he possibly could to avoid even addressing Jack if it could be helped. It was like dealing with Mister Passive and Miss Aggressive. Ms. Aggressive. Whatever.

Again, Jack just sighed. “Major?”

“Hold down the fort. Can do, sir.” Jack gave an acknowledging nod before moving from the chamber.

. : ~*~ : .

A few carefully tucked wads of C4 cleared the shaft to the surface. It wasn’t the easiest thing to climb up, but a quick and impromptu rope ladder made the subsequent trips easier. Jack still felt a bit like a rabbit poking his head up out of a warren hole though.

Two moons sailed peacefully over head as thousands upon thousands of stars crowded together in the alien night sky. Once Carter had her generator and dialing sequence set up, all of SG-1 rejoined above ground.

Sam tilted her head back, her smile dazzling and filled with childlike awe. “It’s beautiful.” Tilting her own head back, unneeded boonie dangling over her shoulders, Elizabeth joined Sam in appreciation. The sight of the women made Daniel grin.

The sight of the women made Jack scowl. Normally he’d be joining them, but Jack’s sour mood was making him a sour commanding officer. It was cold, his knee hurt, he’d had to climb up out of a hole on his hands and (aching) knees, and he’d just received his fourth Significant Look of the mission.

He snapped out a “Carter?” in irritation. He waited until she looked down at him. His dark expression made her bounce over in an apologetic step. “What’s your little gizmo there say. We’re supposed to be looking for something, aren’t we?” His finger flickered at the wide, yellow device she held.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry. Um…. huh.” It was a broad spectrum analysis, and her thumbs clicked through the displays quickly to double check. The comment she was about to make on the Colonel’s disposition was once again lost to the details of being a second in command. “I don’t detect any radio signals, no overt radiation.” Both things Jack knew to be indicators of a comparable civilization. Or that’s what they’d told him anyway. “But a definite collection of energy readings in....” Carter spun a bit, eyes down on the device. “That direction.” She was still frowning at the display screen.

“But?” Jack lifted his chin and set his feet. It was his ‘give it to me straight’ stance.

“Well. I-- I can’t be sure, sir. But these signatures... they’re close to the same Teal’c's staff weapon gives.” She swung the gage at the mentioned man and then again past him.

“So, Jaffa? Goa’uld?”

“Close, not identical. Something crystal/energy-based. Both the Asgard and Tok’ra use a similarly based technology. And they’re really scattered. Faint.” Carter couldn’t stop frowning, shifting her body incrementally this way and that as she watched the numbers bounce up and down. “I can get any number of them by just turning a few degrees, but all in this direction. I’m really not sure what it means, sir.”

This changed things. “Alright. Carter, Daniel, go back to the gate and update the SGC. Request orders. El, Teal’c -- we’re going to scout the immediate area.” Jack had long learned not to send “the girls” together or it was holy hell he had to pay for even implying they couldn’t take care of themselves. So he sent Carter, who would think a bit more rationally about the situation then he knew he would with Daniel, whom General Hammond held a great deal of respect for even if the younger man didn’t see it. On their recommendations, George would come up with the right plan of action.

Elizabeth he motioned to the six, Teal’c into point. Unless a situation was really balls to the walls, Jack actually preferred the midway. It gave him the chance to evaluation the situation as it happened and afforded him a second of thought before orders had to be barked. “Look sharp, kids. I don’t want a surprise visit from the Lollipop Guild if we can avoid it.”

For there being a network of caves under foot, the surrounding area was surprisingly flat. There were clumps and gatherings of trees and bushes, but no big hills, no pitched valleys. Jack worked them in an ever expanding boxed grid. When they had covered ten by ten, Jack felt fairly comfortable with the idea they were alone in the area.

“Carter?” He thumbed his radio, pulling the three of them up a few yards from the rabbit hole. “What’s the situation?”

There was a quick burst of static before Sam’s voice came through his ear piece. “General Hammond’s sent through a UAV. Daniel and I are bringing the pieces up and assembling them at ground level.” O’Neill winced. That stuff was heavy.

“Right. Well, for now we’re an island unto ourselves. We’ll be right there.”

Between the two crescent moons and the brilliant display of stars, they had all the light they could need to assemble and then calibrate the reconnaissance device. Carter was going through one last diagnostic and then radioed down to Daniel. “Go ahead and phone home, Daniel.”

Waving a hand, Sam beckoned Teal’c, Elizabeth and Jack to follow her back to the laptop and away from the contraption that was shortly going to be exploding a small rocket off its backside. Once the Stargate was open, there’d be a direct link between herself and the SGC. A flashing red light in the corner of her display let her know the connection was up and running.

Carter tapped a few commands in, giving the SGC the last bits of information they needed to power the system up. “Flight, you have a go.”

Little red and green lights started to flash on the UAV and then fwip! In a burst of rockets and smoke, it shot itself up its rail launcher and into the sky. “That never gets old,” Jack grinned. Even a sour disposition couldn’t curb an Air Force Colonel’s appreciation of things that flew.

“Switching to manual control,” Carter told Flight, an indulgent grin in her voice for O’Neill’s omni-enthusiasm for the UAVs. Her fingers reached across the keyboard and tapped out the X, Y and Z coordinates that corresponded to her previous energy readings. Over head they could hear the whirl and whine of the tiny plane speeding off to do her bidding.

They all pressed together, watching Sam’s screen. Back in the control room they could have picked a monitor, but here, it was shoulder to shoulder to shoulder with only the one laptop. Daniel looked up quickly with a lick of his lips, double checking that Teal’c was between himself and Jack, and that Elizabeth was just to Sam’s right, putting both Teal’c and Daniel between her and the Colonel. He gave the Jaffa a sheepish, throw away grin when he noticed he’d been caught in the act.

Teal’c’s eyebrow arced subtly as he caught Daniel's actions. He had a concerned frown for the younger man, equally as subtle, but also pulled his shoulders back. If Daniel needed him to be a reassuring presence, then he could and would be. He slid cool brown eyes over O’Neill before looking back over Major Carter’s shoulder. It was a division of his loyalty, but ultimately wouldn’t even be a contest. O’Neill had done something, Teal’c knew it.

Without really realizing it, Daniel’s shoulders relaxed as they brushed against Teal’c’s bicep.

“Wow, trees. We never see those.” Jack rested his crossed wrists on the end of the P90 clipped against his chest. He knew he was “trying too hard” to be his usual self, and with Teal’c popping up against him like a brick wall suddenly, Jack felt like he was just following a script rather then participating in the production.

But then Elizabeth’s breath caught sharply as she stuck a finger out. “Well I can’t say as I’ve ever seen that.”

The UAV was coming over a shallow valley, first passing over a lake and then over the rudimentary structures of an outlying town. As it flew closer to the center, more substantial structures came into play, but nothing compared to the brilliantly lit cathedral-like structure that dominated the heart of the low-tech metropolitan.

Carter called to Flight, asking their more powerful computers to run various scans; UAV flight systems took up all her laptop had to offer, so she let the SGCs equipment do what it did best.

Daniel’s fingertips rested against his mouth as he tried to see over Sam’s shoulder without actually crowding the poor woman out of the way. “I’m not familiar with the architecture at all.”

“And it’s obviously very different then what’s surrounding it,” Elizabeth chimed in, fingertip shadowing over the screen.

“Remnants from something else, adopted into the city plan?”

“Kind of like Tenochtitlan.”

“Or London.”

“Or even Istanbul.”

Before they could get out of hand, Sam decided to save the Jackson’s by relaying the SGCs results to the Colonel. “The... building, with the light. It’s giving off the strongest of the energy readings, with smaller spikes all around it. But that’s where the bulk of it’s coming from, no doubt.”

“Major Carter.” It was Hammond over their radios. “Can you tell me what I’m looking at here?” Undoubtedly Simmons had relayed much the same information to the General that Sam just had to the Colonel, but everyone needed something of an interpreter.

“Sir, the Jackson’s mentioned it out loud and I’m inclined to agree; it looks like some sort of ‘left over’ from one civilization, incorporated into a lesser advanced one. I don’t see any signs of anything else that matches the center structure in scope or construction. And some sort of energy signature is coming from it that doesn’t match against anything else in the area.” Taping an order out, Sam had the UAV’s camera zoom down on the city's streets. Gas lamps lit the corners as if to underscore the point.

“Amazing,” Elizabeth breathed.

Making its second pass, and the camera still zoomed, they caught sight of two men standing in a pool of light created by a corner lamp. They were pointing up at sky.

Jack gave the men on the screen half a wave. “Hello.”

“Call it back, major.” It was Hammond again in Sam and Jack’s ear pieces. “Do we know how long until sun up over there?”

Looking up and then doing some quick math both in her head and on the laptop, Carter tilted her chin down in thought. “Maybe three hours? I’d say four tops, sir.”

“Alright. SG-1, you’re a go for first contact. Report in twelve hours.”

“Copy that, SGC.” It was Jack who gave the acknowledgment, being the commanding officer and all.

“You should have just enough time to dismantle and send my UAV back, Jack.” George needled, nodding his head for Walter to end transmission. Give him an empty “we’re fine”, will he.

. : ~*~ : .

They were approaching the city proper just as the sky was lit golden by the morning sun. At first people just peered out of their windows, but eventually men began to stand in doorways and then come out onto the street.

“Hey there.” Jack gave a nod of his head to the first band that actually approached. His fingers quietly flexed around his weapon.

Daniel smiled his most winsome smile, coming forward with both hands empty and presented. It was disarming and charming and usually made good first impressions. “My name is Daniel. Daniel Jackson. This is Jack O’Neill, Samantha Carter, Elizabeth Jackson and Teal’c. We’re peaceful explorers.”

“From Stroomhelling?” This made Daniel blink quickly and cast his eyes across the assembling heads. Okay, he kind of almost knew this word.

“Riverside. Or Riverbank. Flemish,” came quietly from his elbow, Ellie having joined him as an initial spokesperson. “Maybe Low Franconian, depending on how he’s defining--”

“Do you?” The indigenous spokesman was tall and broad and looked more than a little concerned. These people looked nothing like himself, dressed nothing like himself and carried weapons that, while passingly familiar to what he knew, were far more dangerous looking. Stroomhelling was the furthest point he could possibly think of.

Daniel decided to go for broke. “Uh… no. We come from a place called Earth.”

“Is that further than Stroomhelling?” His wide eyes cast over them again, lingering longest on Sam and Ellie. Carter made a tiny frown, but noticed he was looking more at her pants then at her herself. A quick glance at what few women were out showed nothing but skirts. Well, if they thought she was going to get into another blue dress.

Elizabeth licked her lips first, a touch of wry amusement turning them up at the corners. “You could say that. It’s quite a distance from here.”

Using his hands, Daniel tried to explain. “We traveled through the ‘Stargate’. The… Chappa’i?” The towns people shook their heads slowly in confusion, making Daniel’s brow crinkle as he tried to think what it could possibly be called.

“We have traveled here in peace,” the second Jackson piped up, dashing a dimpled smile of her own towards the assembled. Jack just closed his eyes and tugged down on his cap. Why did he always feel like that was some kind of nail in the coffin? It tempted fate, asked for trouble. Made his Air Force Issued Spidey Senses tingle.

The man seemed to consider something, chewing his thick bottom lip in a heavy mixture of curiosity and concern. “You... you should meet with Cornells then.”

“He a leader around here?” Enough of this “klaatu barada nikto” crap. Pushing past Daniel and Elizabeth, Jack very stridently placed himself at the front of SG-1. Daniel set his jaw and Elizabeth rolled her eyes but both stepped back and fell in along side Teal’c.

“Yes. I am Klaas.” He laid a hand against his chest as he pulled his shoulders back, what little rapport he had built with the Jackson’s suddenly caving under the weight of O’Neill’s heavy scrutiny. Jack was not open, not inviting. Even for him, Jack was bristling a sharp impatience. “I am only a cobbler. Cornells is aanvoerder. He will know what to say. Do. With visitors from... Arth.”

“Earth.” Not like Jack was anyone to correct someone on pronunciation. His mouth pursed and eyebrows bounced as fleeting emotions stole across his face in quick succession. The irony wasn’t lost to him.

The Colonel be damned -- and he was being very much “The Colonel” and nothing like the Jack O’Neill he knew to lead SG-1 -- Daniel stepped forward again, knuckling his glasses up his nose before asking, “Aanvoerder… Mayor? Is he — Mayor? Someone in charge. A… chancellor? Officer? Boss?” Now Daniel was asking things of himself rather then their erstwhile host.

“He is aanvoerder; he lives in the Hall of Glass and attends to the koninkrjk.” Klass’ dark brown eyes darted between Jack and Daniel. The tension coiling between the two of them couldn’t help but insinuate itself around Klass too, making the man nervous of these visitors. Teal’c watched him all the closer for it, but let the brunt of his displeased eyebrow arches hit the back of O’Neill’s head.

Carter spoke for the first time, head tilting curiously. “Hall of Glass. The building in the middle of your city?” Klass looked past the men towards her, nodding quickly.

She unconsciously returned his nod, but was giving a hard and questioning look to the back of Daniel and Jack’s heads. Elizabeth had turned herself, looking at those still lingering in their doorways, but even in profile Sam could see something was bothering her. What was going on suddenly. Not that it wasn’t uncommon for the Colonel and the Jackson’s to butt heads, but this didn’t seem like the typical disagreement. There hadn’t really been enough words exchanged yet to have a head butt over. So had Sam somehow missed something?

Klass’ head bobbed. “Yes,” as if he was agreeing to something only he could hear. Scrunching his mouth together, the man motioned for them to follow. “Come. I do not know what to do with you. Cornells will.” There was an unmistakable urgency to his stance and motions to make SG-1 anyone else’s problem but his.

“T,” O’Neill told him. “Take point and look scary.”

. : ~*~ : .

“Woah.” That had to be the fifth or sixth time Daniel had said that and it was grating on Jack’s nerves. The only reason he didn’t say anything was that Carter and Ellie were only one down on Daniel, all three of them big blue eyes for the… whatever. Building. Hall of Glass. And he didn’t feel like starting another ‘discussion’.

The streets they had walked through were mostly cobbled, with brick and mortar buildings lining the curb. Occasionally there was a wooden facade, but it looked dated next to the others. Shopkeepers were sweeping porches and the distinct smell of baking breads greeted them at the turn of one corner. A shaggy horse drawing a cart pulled passed. Men and women stopped to stare at them.

They kept to the middle of the street and, it seeming a bit like a parade, Jack occasionally waved. Teal’c kept his lush smirk in check, but only just, making Carter grin. Elizabeth and Daniel were whispering back and forth, pointing things out to each other. It had all seemed normal, so Sam was left to puzzle over the tension back at the end of town. And at O’Neill’s behavior in general since they’d come through the gate. Yes, she had to conclude. She’d missed something. But no time to figure out what right now.

All the streets seemed to lead to the Hall, and no other building was taller. It was the pinnacle landmark from anywhere you stood. The sun moved higher into the sky and shone right through its spires, watery rainbows playing in the courtyard they stood in. It all looked so fragile, so delicate, but O’Neill knew it wasn’t. So did Teal’c. The two of them stood at the ready.

Carter was doing her best to do likewise, stay alert, be an attentive soldier. But the scientist in her was currently winning that particular battle. She stalked the courtyard, aiming her measuring equipment into various corners and towards the reaching spires. “This is incredible; the material itself seems to be giving an energy signature. And I’m definitely getting something beyond it, too. Something different.” Something familiar, but she didn’t want to say anything just yet.

Ellie was catching what she could with a video camera. “Just how old could this be?”

“Ancient,” whispered Daniel, absolutely mesmerized by a jeweled mosaic that trapped the sunlight and lit it from behind with a haunting brilliance. It seemed almost alive. The smooth gems were even warm to his touch.

“Of course, but I mean–”

“No. Ancient.” He gave the word appropriate emphasis, turning it from an adjective into a noun. “The Ancients.”

Elizabeth looked back up the length of the structure. Daniel was still more of an expert in this then she was, her own world having never come into contact with the Ancient Database, or subsequently the Asgard to get it out of Jack’s head. But he was right, she knew it.

“O’Neill.” Teal’c dipped his head towards a set of doors that were opening slowly. Klaas was gone, but three new men came out to greet them. One was dressed in a bright emerald green and was clearly someone of importance by the cut and quality of it all. The other two were soldiers of the most universal order: plain uniforms in an uninspired drab gray. Dull blue pips seemed to denote rank up by their stiff collars. And each had some sort of sidearm strapped to their thigh.

The man in emerald was reaching towards them with both palms flat, it had the look of a formal greeting gesture. “Hello! And welcome!”

Daniel headed Jack off at the pass by leaping to the forefront. Carter came up too to mitigate O’Neill’s temper. “Hello. Thank you. I’m Daniel Jackson. And you’re Cornells?”

“I am. Yes, yes. Klaas said you are visitors? From somewhere very far away?”

“Earth,” Sam said with a disarming smile of her own.

The moment Daniel had identified the structure as Ancient, it had made him “in charge” of the cultural aspect of the mission. Carter was moving to take up the other end, looking into the hard science of the situation. Which worked well; Sam and Daniel having set themselves up as the Intergalactic Ambassadors, it left Teal’c and Elizabeth free to observe and evaluate, and Jack to threat assess to his heart’s content.

Turning her back, Ellie made as if she was looking up once more towards the spires. “Those soldiers,” she murmured to Teal’c. “They’re armed.” Her fingers made a lazy ‘gun’ gesture against her waist.

“Indeed,” Teal’c returned just as quietly, having noticed early on but feeling a certain near-parental pride for Elizabeth Jackson. It meant she was listening when they trained together.

“Why would they bring them on a meet and greet?”

“We are strangers.” Then with an articulated tilt of his chin, “And we have rocket launchers in the gateroom.”

“True.” She shrugs against the statement before turning back around.

Sam and Daniel chatted amiably with Cornells, Jack looming over their shoulders not forgotten. They went through the pleasantries of first contact and explained as simplistically as they could how they’d come to be here at the Hall of Glass. And just how far away Earth really was.

Cornells prompted and Carter told him what the Stargate looked like. The aanvoerder frowned curiously, then motioned slowly with his hand.

“Come. You should see this, I believe.” The Intergalactic Ambassadors exchanged a glance, Jack’s chin tilting up in professional interest. They assumed he was going to show them a picture, maybe a wall of pictographs. It wouldn’t be the first time a transplanted people would explain to them their mythology and how it connected them to the Stargate.

The watery, rainbow prismed light filled the halls and cast wavy shadows on the smooth walls when they passed. Ceilings soared and arched far over head, humbling a person if they’d let it. Daniel was quizzing their guide and Elizabeth tried to not trip over her feet as she walked with her head thrown back. Teal’c was again privately amused but kept himself at the ready.

On the inside, the Hall had more substance: stronger lines, thicker walls that separated rooms without question. It looked less like the fragile skin of a soap bubble but no less impressive. Or intimidating. Jack sent Carter a pointed look that reminded the Major to be on alert. The woman acknowledged it with a curt nod.

When they were lead to the center of the building, two more guards stood before wide and ornate double doors. There were writings on them, carved and etched and outlined in the same iridescent crystal everything else seemed to be made of. The entire thing held an ethereal quality.

“Holy Hannah.” Sam couldn’t help herself. When the armed men turned to pull the doors back, they let SG-1 into the most private sanctum of the Hall of Glass. They had expected to be shown pictures, a mural, maybe a library of sorts. They didn’t expect Cornells to show them a second Stargate.

Which wasn’t completely true. Sam had detected faint traces of an energy signal that could possible have been another Stargate, but she couldn’t be sure. Though now it was pretty obvious.

Jack’s fingers tapped out an anxious cadence along the casing of his gun while Sam and Daniel were deep in conversation with Cornells, discussing the finer points of Stargate ownership with the... aardvark.

He still didn’t like this, any of this, but , and it was a big but, a big honking but, a but Jack knew he couldn’t in good conscious ignore, he had to wonder how much of his nervousness was his instinct and how much was just his own personal issues clouding the situation. He was doing what he could to shove all "that" down, but it wasn’t working as well as he’d want. His renowned skills of compartmentalizing were suddenly failing him and he wasn’t used to second guessing his intuition like this.

Shaking himself, he looked again at the Stargate. Even if it looked nothing like a Stargate they’d ever seen. Grabbing her by the elbow as she passed, Jack steered Elizabeth into a corner for a quiet conversation. Enough of this: he was Colonel Jack O’Neill and he needed his secondary civilian specialist to explain things to him.

“Okay. Why do the Pennsylvania Dutch here have a smaller, bluer Stargate? Don’t get me wrong -- make great apple turnovers, but this?”

Elizabeth felt herself thrumming with excitement and it had absolutely nothing to do with Jack for the first time in a week. In fact, she was all but ignorant of his hand on her. Elizabeth’s fingers itched to touch, to caress, ideas already running through her mind too fast to keep track of. But she had to wait until she got the ‘go ahead’, which Daniel was undoubtedly negotiating.

Curiosity killed more anthropologists then cats any day of the week.

“What?” It took her a second to come back from her thoughts and puzzle together what he was asking. Jack had to quell the flip of his heart when she looked up at him with the passionate enthusiasm that was all but the Jackson trademark. He couldn’t let this be another P1X-126, where he’d... lost it. Where he’d had to purposefully piss the Jackson’s off so they couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t look at him with their big eyes and rush on in their breathy voices. He just couldn’t allow that again. Jack O’Neill had a job to do here. He gave her a rough little shake; ‘get on with it’ it said.

“Uh, well. I have no idea. Clearly this is some kind of left over? From the Ancients. Now, whether or not these people are decedents, or simply came after the fact....?” She could only shrug. “Really, you’re going to be better off asking Daniel. He’s had actually field experience with this, I’ve only read his journals.”

“Right.” It was only then Jack realized he was still holding onto Ellie’s elbow. He let it go in an abrupt, almost rude gesture, but then tried to mask it by looking at his watch. “Well, we’ve got six hours before we need to check in. Do whatever you do. But don’t touch anything. Especially if it looks like a button.”

“Sir.” Sam came down from the dais where Daniel and the Aardvark seemed to be saying goodbyes. “Cornells is going to go and speak before the High Council. Or, that’s how Daniel translated it.”

Jack’s expression was prize winningly droll. “Oh, High Councils. We always do so well with those.” Then, with a jut of his chin, “I thought he was in charge?”

Carter’s smirk spoke the volumes regulations prevented her from actually voicing. “Yes, sir. And he is. Sort of. I suppose you could say he’s the second in command. Things go through him before they go up to the Kon…ink…ker” Her expression was pained as she tried to repeat the word, brow wrinkling in concentration. Then she just gave up; it wasn’t like O’Neill was going to call them ‘koninkrjk’ anyway. “The High Council. But we’re allowed to stay here and study. Cornells also said he’d like to visit the cave where the other ‘Circle of the Ancestors’ is. Which’ll let me ask the SGC for some specialized equipment.”

“Alright, well.” Jack cast a look around the room. Four armed guards of the Hall were posted two each per double-doors. He was sure they weren’t just ceremonial. Teal’c was hovering near Daniel as Daniel all but crawled over the not-quite DHD. Elizabeth was already wrapped around the gate itself.

“You’ll take Teal’c with you when you do. I’ll keep the Jackson’s in check.” It wasn’t a set up O’Neill was really excited about, but it made the most strategic sense.

. : ~*~ : .

Daniel felt something tickling his ear, but when he went to brush it away his knuckle collide with Jack's shoulder, startling them both.

“What?”

“What?”

“What?!”

_:What?!"_

Jack was crowded his space, trying to get a better look at his work. Elizabeth frowned, looking up from her own journal to clear her throat disapprovingly.

Daniel scowled at Jack while hunching his shoulders in complaint, pencil poised to return to work. “You're looming.”

“I am not,” Jack grunted, quickly looking away with a squint.

“Yes, you are.” Elizabeth knocked her glasses back up her nose before pointing an accusing finger at the Colonel. “At least twice now you've nearly stepped on Daniel. And you keep hip checking me.” Her mouth puckered when her eyebrows drew together. “You’re bored but antsy, Sam and Teal’c are gone and now out of radio range; you don’t know what to do with yourself and now you’re bugging us. These aren’t exactly new dance steps, Jack.” The familiarity of it all made the corner’s of her mouth twitch up. It was a reminder of normal.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jack gruffly yanked his cap down, still looking away. But his fingers flexed against his P90, betraying him.

“You don’t get to pretend we’re fine, Jack.” Daniel Jackson took a half step back, turning his shoulders so he stood in solidarity besides Elizabeth Jackson behind the Ancient dialing device. His voice was quiet, but sure, carrying only as far as the three of them. Ellie lifted her chin, showing he spoke for her too.

“There’s something... here,” Daniel’s pencil made a hasty triangle between the three of them. “And we need to work through it whether you like it or not. But we’re not going to just pretend nothing happened because you want us to. Stand too close all you want, but don't act like you didn't change the rules.”

Whoa, this was turf Jack couldn’t let anyone get comfortable on. “Nope, stop right there. We’ve got a job to do, people. And we're going to do it.” His emphasis was harsh and unfairly judgmental against them. He threw the work in their hands a heavy look before stomping off.

The afternoon turned to evening and Carter, Elizabeth and Daniel did everything in their respective powers to learn an entire people’s history in one single pass. Jack was of the opinion it wasn’t going anywhere, so what was the rush? But then, he never really ‘got’ scientists.

Carter had her special equipment out and was carefully explaining herself step by step to the escort she’d been assigned as they inspected the dialing device. Elizabeth was off with Teal’c taking pictures and translating what she could from the doors. It fell to Daniel to update Jack on their progress.

"This is amazing." Daniel's enthusiasm forgave Jack his transgression, at least temporarily. He motioned between his notes, the Stargate, the DHD, the room, trying to draw Jack into the discovery of it. But O'Neill only set his expression to one of impatient expectation and waited; he couldn't afford to be distracted.

“It’s all the same language you were speaking back when, uh,” Daniel’s finger flicked around his head meaningfully. “The Vistuula know they came here in “ships of stars”, and that they were left here to live in peace by ancestors that were leaving to fight a great battle. They were to stay kind of a-- a safe haven.”

“What about the gate?” Setting his shoulders, Jack wanted something solid he could understand. Daniel’s pretty stories never really did it for him.

“Well, Sam’s on it now, but the DHD is entirely different then what we’re used to seeing. I mean, the construction isn’t even the same.” He motioned them to turn, looking at the thing that was more desk-like then DHD-like. “It has fifty-nine characters, the center key we assume being the point of origin to make sixty. It should be noted it’s a different point of origin then the one we used to dial in. Sam thinks it’s based on eight, not seven. Maybe even as many as ten."

Daniel clutched his notes to his chest in unbridled elation, his tongue darting out over his excited bottom lip in its unconscious grin. “Jack, I really think we’ve found something of a... a....” His hand spun in a gesture between them. “A long-distance Stargate. Something that was meant to travel greater distances then the usual network.”

“Does it work?”

Daniel licked his lips again and looked over towards the sleek circle. Jack looked at the Stargate too. Because he was finding it difficult to concentrate and watch Daniel. He could do one or the other... but not both. “Not that we can tell. It’s giving off energy signatures, but not enough to fully activate a connection anywhere. Sam’s talking to one of the Hall’s... docents, I suppose, and maybe with a naquadah generator...?” He was still talking, but Jack couldn’t hear anymore.

The burning, twisting feeling he’d been doing his best to ignore in his gut was threatening to spread to below his belt, make his head swim and Jack just couldn’t deal with that right now. Couldn’t and wouldn’t. What would he do, anyway, if he gave in? Haul Daniel off into some corner and what exactly. Jack hadn’t a clue and certainly didn’t want to come up with one. He gave the young man his gruffest, hardest Colonel Scowl, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“Well keep your damn head about you, Dr. Jackson. I don’t know if you’ve had chance to notice, but we’re still being tailed by armed guards.” It was still two per double-doors, but he also knew they were stationed throughout the halls, too. He’d seen as much and Carter had reported positions when she’d returned.

Daniel flinched, his mouth open in surprise. "What? Look--!" Why would Jack demand an update if he was just going to be an ass? But he didn't get the satisfaction. Instead Jack turned and left the linguist to sputter at thin air. O'Neill needed to find space to breath in again.

. : ~*~ : .

“But,” Cornells tried again with desperation. “They came through a second Circle -- I saw it with my own eyes! I saw them bring it to life, and--”

With a deliberate, cryptic chop of his hand, the Councilman silenced the man in his green robes. “And exactly. They brought the Circle of the Ancestors to life. And what does the scripture tell us? To beware those who would come and enslave us. Do we know how to bring the Circle to life? No.”

He made a hard and disgusted sound deep from the back of his throat as he strode through the chamber. It was only he, Cornells, and the guards that had been brought into the Hall with the stranger’s arrival. He could freely vent his irritation in the long room, so he did.

They simply hadn’t been aware of how much they’d lost until the strangers had come to tell them, point it out, rub their noses in it. How were they to do their life’s work if they didn’t know how? The cobbler had been wise to bring them here, and Cornells’ judgment sound to show them the Circle. It had given them the opportunity to see who was important and who wasn’t; who could bring back their old ways and who could be dispensed with.

Rounding on the aanvoerder, he bullied the man into a submissive cower, his head dropping so low that all that could possibly fill his vision were their shoes. “We could possibly over power them by sheer numbers, eventually, but our weapons would be no match for their own. And would you have me bring violence, shame, into the Hall?”

“No, sir, of course not.” The top of Cornells’ head swung side to side. “But I would have you reconsider... they are friends, my lord. I know this, I feel this. If we would only ask, I know--”

“‘Ask?’ And this is why you serve the koninkrjk and are not of the koninkrjk. You would hand them our world on a gilded plate.”

The councilman set his hands on his hips, turning to look out the grand window that made up the whole of the wall. “The other’s have already agreed; we will do it my way.”

Cornells sighed softly. “Of course, my lord.”

. : ~*~ : .

They were invited to both share dinner with the High Council and stay the evening. Hammond had anticipated something to that affect when Carter had last checked in, so had pre-approved the invitation by extending their next check-in to eighteen hours from twelve.

The council was four men and two women, all of whom pelted SG-1 with questions. It was mostly Sam and the Jackson’s supplying answers, but there was one Councilor in particular, Werner, who kept pressing the issue of weaponry. He seemed overly fascinated with their military kit and kept trying to wheedle out more and more information. Jack cut “Vern” off at the pass on repeated occasions, but Vern was gaining a few supporters. Jack started to deflect more and more questions.

Cornells was acting as something of a liaison between the Council, SG-1 and the servants that brought course after course. The portions were small and the dishes light, but the kitchen seemed to have an endless supply of them.

Somewhere between the ninth and tenth courses, a tension set up among the council. First it was just exchanged expression, eye contact held over-long. One woman kept clicking her nails on the table top in sequence and Cornells was looking anxious around the edges. It made Jack sit up and take note. A quick look down the table told him Sam and Teal’c were noticing it, too. Daniel was too busy explaining the Ancient language to a Councilwoman on the far left, Elizabeth interjecting when and where she could. Something was up, but he wouldn’t be able to attract Daniel’s attention without attracting attention in general. Best just to play it by ear for now.

Their current plates were replaced with miniature cutting boards where selections of cheese and fruits were offered individually. At best count, eleven dishes had already been put in front of him, so O’Neill was going to take this as a sign that things were winding down. God, he hoped so. And hey, cheese. Can’t go wrong with that.

Jack was in the middle of shutting Councilmen ‘Vern’ down again when he began to feel light headed. And this time it had nothing to do with blue eyes or whispered enthusiasm. Shoving a hand up into Werner’s face, he turned abruptly to look down the table. “Carter?” She turned to look at him with a lazy motion, her pupils softly dilated. Just beyond Sam, Elizabeth slid under the table.

Teal’c was on his feet immediately, but even he wobbled, weaving around where he stood. Daniel lifted his head and opened his mouth to make some sort of statement, be it protest or reassurance, but instead his eyes went unfocused and his head continued to loll backwards until he slid into unconsciousness.

“I am sorry, Colonel O’Neill,” Cornells winced as he helped Jack lay on the floor. “At least this way, no one will get hurt.”

. : ~*~ : .

It was cold. God, was it cold. Elizabeth shuffled tighter against Teal’c and that’s how the Jaffa knew she was coming around. O’Neill was still unconscious, tucked up under his other arm, head lolling against that shoulder.

“Elizabeth Jackson?”

She groaned first, desperately trying to make sense of the spinning in her head. It didn’t help when she opened her eyes, because the underside of Teal’c’s chin didn’t exactly offer a wealth of answers. Her tongue clicked dryly in her mouth as she tried to swallow. “What, uhm. Teal’c?”

“You and O’Neill have been unconscious and it has been extremely cold. Our gear has been taken though they left us our jackets, so I sat us so to conserve body heat.”

Opening her eyes again, Ellie threw a bleary look at her immediate surroundings. Teal’c had his back against a rough brick corner, Elizabeth tucked against him on the left, Jack tucked against him on his right. He had drawn them as close to himself as he could. She might have found the gesture endearing under other, less totally screwed circumstances.

“Daniel and Sam?” She tried to sit up but found her body protesting the effort.

“I do not know. It has only been you, myself and O’Neill since I regained consciousness.”

Keeping tucked up against Teal’c, Elizabeth managed to sit up straighter, wrapping both hands behind her neck to massage the cramped muscle. “And just how long ago was that?”

“I have only been awake for two hours. But I believe we have been here for much longer then that.”

Elizabeth winced as she tried to rub life back into her shoulders. “Yeah, I get that feeling too.”

Suddenly yanking himself awake, Jack made a startled “Nah!” sound, head flinging sideways and cracking itself against the wall. “Oh, Goddamn!” Teal’c quickly tried to help, but Jack was reaching to grab for his head and as close as they were sitting all four hands ended in a jumbled, confused flap of a tangle.

“Just! Just... stop,” Jack demanded, wild eyes judging Teal'c for his efforts.

Tealc’s chin dipped in acquiescence, turning back to Elizabeth as she huddled back up against him. She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. Or the tip of her nose. Junior may have been disgusting, but it kept the Jaffa warm so Elizabeth all but crawled into Teal’c’s lap.

“Why would they do this? They seemed so eager to talk, share, learn.” She was shivering and welcomed Teal’c’s arm coming back around her shoulders.

Jack was so incredibly not in the mood for civilian naivety. “Is there ever a reason for everything to go to hell?” Elizabeth pouted her disapproval and embarrassment, turning her face away. She pressed her cheek into Teal’c’s arm and sighed softly.

Grinding a palm into his recently bashed temple, Jack managed to get himself standing. His legs were in pins and needles, but he was upright, and so that was a good start in his book. There wasn’t a light source in the cell itself, but a brazier just outside the criss crossing bars let a person see well enough.

“Carter? Daniel?” The three of them seemed to be held in some corner suite, so Jack yelled their names down the hall where he guessed other cells might be. He tried again, louder. “Carter! Daniel!” No response. But what he did hear was the scrape of wood against stone floor, and then footsteps. He figured on a guard of some sort.

Footsteps turned into a broad man with a thick neck and wide face. He didn’t exactly look overjoyed by having to come down here and fingered the butt of his gun in display. “You will not shout.”

“Look,” Jack tried to begin. “Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake. We came in peace, remember?” Behind him Teal’c and Elizabeth stood, the Jaffa coming up to his shoulder, Elizabeth taking a hold of the bars.

“If we caused insult, I can assure you it was done unintentionally.” Elizabeth had a winsome smile of her own, just as disarming and charming as Daniel’s.

“Silence! Prisoners of the Hall are not allowed to speak. You are to sit, quietly, and reflect upon your crimes.”

“Why don’t you get that Cornells guy. We can tell him how this was just a big mistake, we’ll grab Major Carter and Dan--”

The guard didn’t just finger his pistol but pulled it, thrusting it in their direction. “I warn you once more. You are to remain silent.” Jack’s hands went up. He got the picture. Silence. Not a peep. Alrighty then.

“Our friends are alright though, right? They’re just being held somewhere else?” Elizabeth's fingers flexed against the rough cast bars, worry making her mouth purse as she peeked through the six by six square.

The guard in his gray uniform didn’t even bother with a warning that time. He simply fired with a sickening practice through the bars, shooting Dr. Jackson point blank. Teal’c caught her before she could hit the ground and Jack bellowed an inarticulate sound of rage as he reached through the bars. The man trained the weapon back onto Jack, making the Colonel retreat in bitter impotence.

“You will now remain silent,” was all he said, turning to walk back down the hall. “And reflect upon your crimes.”

. : ~*~ : .

Sam thought that maybe, just maybe, she was dead. This needle sharp pain in the center of her brain could only mean she was dead or really, really close to it.

She laid where she was for who knew how much longer before daring to move. Everything hurt, was stiff, like maybe she hadn’t moved in a hundred or so years. It made her groan involuntarily.

“Sam?” The woman tried to open her eyes desperately, feeling tentative hands on her shoulders. “Sam.” It was more urgent this time, sharp under the weight of concern. “Come on, come on....” A gentle tapping on her cheek, then another “Sam?”

“Daniel?” Finally she pried one eye open, then the other. “Daniel!” Even half focused, she could see he had a spectacular black eye.

He winced self consciously, shrugging a shoulder. “I haven’t been cooperative,” was all he’d say as he helped her sit up. “But I have been worried about you. Are you okay?” His blue eyes were darting all around her, inspecting her top to bottom.

They were still in the Hall of Glass, the late evening light diffused through the crystal panels and augmented by a soft bar of light that ran the length of the ceiling. Carter was sitting up on some sort of pallet and she could see two had been provided. But just the two. “I’m fine,” she tried before catching Daniel’s almost wry eyebrow lift. “Okay, not fine, but getting better.”

He stood up and went somewhere behind her, leaving Sam to get reacquainted with the concepts of ‘upright’ and ‘conscious’. “Where’s the Colonel? Ellie, Teal’c?”

Daniel pressed a cup of water into her hand, his expression tense as he simply shook his head. “I don’t know. And no one will tell me. Or what we did wrong.” He set his hands on his belt, shoulders slumping dejectedly.

Taking the water in small sips, Sam cast her eyes around the room, finding the power of focus slowly coming back to her. It was utilitarian to say the least: nothing on the walls, nothing on the floors save their two pallets, two firmly closed double doors which, no doubt, had a set of guards on either side. A floating shelf was in a corner and it was there the pitcher of water and tumblers were. Otherwise, it was empty.

“How long...?”

He was pacing the room, hands still on his hips as he glanced between Sam and then the ceiling. “A day? Maybe a bit more? I’m not sure. But that’s a setting sun, and we were having dinner with the High Council.” Daniel had a derisive snort for himself. He should have seen this coming, should have been paying more attention. Jack had been right: he’d been oblivious.

Sam blinked in mild shock. “A day,” she repeated, setting the cup down on the floor. “Okay. We’ve missed our check in then, so the SGC should be sending another team in soon.” Biting on her upper lip, she asked, “So who, uhm.” Her finger motioned circularly near her eye.

“Oh, yeah.” Daniel’s fingers came up to rest on the edge of the livid bruise. “It look bad?”

“Hoyeah.”

He rolled his eyes. “I, uh.” One hand left his hip to sway with his voice. “When I woke up, and I couldn’t get a response from you, I started to knock, then kick, at the doors. The guard asked me to stop, I told him him I wouldn't until I got some answers. And....” The hand Daniel was using to speak with made a fist then launched a cute, energetic punch into the air like a twisted punctuation mark. "I got an answer."

She winced in sympathy, pushing herself up to stand. “Well, eventually someone has to come by and tell us what this is all about. Maybe now that we’re both awake.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Daniel took a deep breath, looking up through the ceiling towards the up and coming moon. “I just wish I knew where the other were.”

Sam came up besides him, briefly touching his arm as she also looked up. Yeah. She did too.

. : ~*~ : .

“Hold her, Teal’c!”

“Oh, God, oh, God, I’m so sorry, sorry, didn’t mean....”

“Do not speak, Elizabeth Jackson. Allow Colonel O’Neill to look over your injury.”

Elizabeth laid back against Teal’c’s thighs as he kneeled, twisting as much as his big hands would allow her to. There was quite a bit of blood, bright red against her olive skin. The poor lighting only seemed to make the contrast more horrific. She did her best to do as Teal’c asked her to, breathing heavily through her nose and grinding her teeth hard enough to be heard, but her heels drummed of their own accord against the floor.

Jack didn’t allow himself to think, didn’t allow himself to feel, leaving only training to take over. He felt around the back of her arm and then up to her shoulder, oblivious to the hiss of breath his fingers brought past her lips. “No exit wound.”

Reaching into her pants waist, he pulled her shirt out, confidante -- and rewarded -- by it being standard military issue. Which meant too long for her. With far too many years of training in this, Jack tore a two inch high band all the way around the bottom, using it quickly to tourniquet the wound just below the shoulder joint. Elizabeth whimpered in a strangled breath and Teal’c had to press down on her to keep her still. Then Jack did similar to his own shirt, ripping the strip and using it to bind her entire arm to her chest with the Jaffa’s help.

From start to finish, the whole operation didn’t take all that long, but it had taken long enough for Elizabeth to go into a certain amount of shock. Her whole frame shook, teeth chattering. ‘This part,’ she thought wildly to herself. ‘The getting wounded part. It never gets easier. I also never learn.’ “Jack, please. I’m-- he didn’t look like a button.”

O’Neill afforded himself a humorless chuckle. They stayed that way for a time: Elizabeth leaning weakly against Teal’c, Teal’c holding her in both support and protection, and Jack rocked back onto his heels. Ostensibly he was frowning at her wound, but really, he was thinking. Fast and furiously. He was shuffling and rearranging things inside his head at breakneck speeds, suddenly finding the need to re-prioritize key elements in his life between heartbeats.

Teal’c could see the tension rippling across O’Neill’s shoulders, but he mistook it for reaction to the situation. He had no idea how desperate Colonel Jack O’Neill was to gather Elizabeth up in his arms and apologize over and over again for bringing her somewhere she would get hurt like this. It was his job to keep her safe, and he had resoundingly failed in a spectacular fashion. Daniel and Sam had been taken from him, and now this. What kind of leader was he? What kind of soldier?

‘She’s safer there,’ Jack thought with a bitter darkness. ‘Teal’c can keep her safe. Obviously I can’t.’ He couldn’t watch her shiver like that, so he turned to face the brazer just out in the hall.

“Alright,” he said with a scrub through his short hair. If they were willing to shoot them just to keep them quiet, what could they be doing to Daniel? Or Carter? “We have to get out of here. Can’t wait.”

. : ~*~ : .

“That’s ridiculous!” Then Daniel was forced to double over when a guard slammed a fist into his ribs. He was pretty sure he heard something that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Stop it!” Carter yelled, lunging forward but snatched back by her own personal security detail.

“Dr. Jackson. You must learn to control your outbursts. You only bring such punishments onto yourself.” Daniel and Sam both had been hauled in front of the High Council, but it was Werner who was acting as chairman. Cornells stood just to the assembled right. He looked distinctly uncomfortable with the whole proceedings.

“If we had not taken the actions that we did, you would have gone back to your land and we would not be able to do as we promised our ancestors. You would have come and taken our Stargate, taken control of the Hall. Now, with yours and Major Carter’s help, you shall teach us how it all works, so that we may never need take steps like these again.” He tapped his finger tips together. Clearly this had been his master plan and he was reveling in its success.

“We would never do such a thing.” Sam tried in a calmer, more controlled tone of voice. Not that Daniel was in any shape to offer up any further argument, he was hanging over his hip, clutching his left side with both hands and wheezing in a way that made Sam nervous. “Not to mention? Kicking the crap out of us isn’t exactly the best way to get help from us.”

“I remind you, Major Carter. We have simple requests, and if you cannot follow them, then appropriate measures will be handed out until you do.” He gave her another indulgent, smug smile. Carter didn’t try to press the issue, instead just frowning over Daniel’s paling face.

“Look. I’m not sure where you got the idea that we would ever... but we wouldn’t. We’re peaceful explorers. Not conquerors. Or thieves.” They hadn’t even told these people about the Gou’ld, so Sam had no idea what it was they could have said to make the Vistuula think they were deceiving them in any way.

“You, Major Carter, will teach us how to use the Circle of the Ancients and Dr. Jackson will teach us to understand the words of our ancestors and that is final!” Werner slammed his palm into the arm of his chair and several of the Council flinched, ducking their heads in embarrassment.

‘So maybe this isn’t a unanimous decision,’ Daniel thought dimly, trying to learn how to breath without moving his ribcage. “What.” He licked his lips and tried again. “What about our friends? What have you done with them.”

“They were sent home. Through your ‘Stargate’.” Katja, the older woman he and Elizabeth had spent so much time talking to, was lying. Werner was glaring at her hard, like maybe she’d said the wrong line from his script, but Katja only lifted her chin staring back. It gave Sam and Daniel their first glimmer of hope, though what direction they were supposed to take it in was anyone’s guess.

Werner waved his hand down at them, making both Daniel and Carter flinch just a fraction. “Take them back to their room. Feed them. In the morning, they will see reason.” But there seemed a very ominous, very unsaid ‘or else’ lurking in the air between them.

. : ~*~ : .

“Just look like crap,” Jack told Elizabeth, cupping her cheek and running a soft thumb down the line of her jaw. She was propped against the wall by herself, Jack on her left and Teal’c on her right. It wasn’t all that difficult of an order to carry through, either. Not only was Ellie in shock, but she was losing a lot of blood. The bullet had to have nicked something major, and with it still stuck in there, they knew they were running out of time. With a small, resolute expression, she gave him a nod. She could do this, she was ready.

Teal’c very rarely saw O’Neill like this. Worried, scared, even afraid. But this was different. He kept looking at Elizabeth Jackson, making the Jaffa frown softly. He remembered how Daniel Jackson had made sure to put himself on the other side of Teal’c from Jack. Why now was O’Neill behaving as he was?

It wasn’t unusually for O’Neill to be upset one of them was wounded, and while he could easily see the grave situation Elizabeth Jackson faced, this was something else. It was more then the Colonel simply blaming himself, and was more then just worry. It wasn’t anything Teal’c could find words for, though.

They had given it quite a bit of time, more then Jack really wanted but felt was safest, right for the parts they were playing. Roughly two hours, letting the guard down the hall get comfortable with the idea that they were going to behave. And since no one had come to see them or tell them what the hell it was that was going on, Jack figured their continued silence gave them something of an advantage. But he also knew his archaeologist and her wound were working against time. If they were going to make their move, it had to be soon.

Jack’s eyes darted up from Elizabeth to Teal’c, the Jaffa giving him a nod. “Alright then.” He wasn’t going to give them any false warnings about being careful, this was a jail break after all.

Teal’c took his position up next to Ellie; where as before he’d all but been cradling her, now he stood on his toes, crouching down at her side. The way he relaxed his shoulders and kept a hand on her knee made it look like he was hunched down much more solidly then he actually was. In truth, Teal’c was strung as tight as piano wire and could and would leap into action at just the right moment.

He'd cover Elizabeth, Jack thought, if this went all to hell. If Jack failed them again. Taking a deep breath, he went back up to the bars, pressing himself into the tiny squares they made and cleared his throat loudly. “Ah… hey. I’m--I’m sorry to interrupt but, ah. Please, could you just-- we need....”

There was the scrape of chair again and the same guard as before came back down the hall. He was still alone, so this gave Jack a bit of hope, but he was already brandishing his gun.

His wide set eyes looked Jack over and then flicked behind him into the rest of the cell. “You’ve been warned.”

“Yes, I know, please. I’m sorry.” O’Neill was being as placating as he knew how to be, hands raised and expression open. “It’s just-- the woman. She’s running a fever, losing a lot of blood. And it’s cold in here. Could we-- just for her-- could we have a blanket? Or maybe just a glass of water?” He pointedly looked over his shoulder where Elizabeth was letting her head slump against the wall. Huge, dark circles were under her eyes and an oily sheen of sweat made her cheeks shiny. He knew he’d told her to ham it up, but geez. Unless it wasn't really an act. If she really was that bad.

Jack didn’t let himself think that far. He instead looked back at the guard and pleaded silently for compassion with far more honesty then he'd meant to share.

It had been within his right to shoot the prisoner, procedurally accurate and by the laws, but maybe.... He really didn’t know why they were here anymore then they did, and maybe it’d be a mistake if the woman died. The gray uniformed guard seemed to think it over before dropping his chin once. “Alright.” Then he turned and left, presumably to fulfill at least one of their requests.

Teal’c and Jack made crisp eye contact, Elizabeth leaving her head back but eyes opening wider and clearer than they had been a second before. It gave Jack a sliver of comfort.

When the footsteps came back there was the distinct jingle of keys with them. He came bearing a blanket and a canteen of water on a strap he’d slung over his shoulder. “Step away from the door,” he told Jack, already waving the gun again.

Again, with hands raised, Jack did as he was told.

He put the right key into the door and let it swing out into the hall. With his gun trained on Jack, the guard took only a step in and bent at the knee to set the blanket and canteen down.

Teal’c sprung like a panther, launching himself forward in a well executed use of thigh and calf muscles. One hand was already up to clamp over the guard’s mouth when the two hit the ground. There was some wrestling, but the mere mortal was no match for Apophis’ former First Prime.

“Good work, T.” Jack was bending over to take the unconscious man’s gun from his limp hand quickly. Elizabeth was trying to slide herself up the wall to stand, but it was a labored effort.

They used their belts to tie the witless soldier up, covering him with the blanket to hide who he was. He was left in the darkest corner and it was just hopped he’d stay out of it long enough that they could do what they needed to do.

Jack took point with his purloined gun, Teal’c behind while Elizabeth shuffled up in the rear. There were eight cells in total and yes, they had been locked in at the far end. They also seemed to have been held alone in the block, a fact not gone unnoticed by any of them. Were they unofficial prisoners then?

Keyhole windows told them it had cycled back around to night time. At the L-junction they found the desk the guard had been occupying and the book he must have been reading, left open.

“O’Neill.” Teal’c chin jutted towards a small wall mounted locker. It had the universal look of stored weaponry. Their own gear was nowhere to be found, but that was to be expected.

Looking down the other, smaller hall that presumably lead outside, Jack made an motion that Teal’c should open it and see what was inside. Weapons indeed. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. Probably the ordnance for this particular cell block, stocked as if each cell held an occupant. These people didn’t seem to shy away from the idea of corporal punishment.

“Hopefully some Vulcan geek will blow his foot off trying to get something of ours to work,” noted Jack cheerily, bouncing his shoulder as he worked a strap over his head. The large automatic rifle didn’t fit as neatly against him as his own P90 did, but beggars weren’t going to be choosers.

“Vistuulian,” Elizabeth corrected him, hefting up one gun only to have Teal’c pluck it out of her hand. He instead gave her one of the side arms and even that suddenly seemed too heavy. She set it into the waistband of her pants.

“Whatever.” Plundering the small weapon’s locker, Jack gave himself and Teal’c all the ammo he could identify, then loaded T down with four of the six fragment grenades he’d found and two of the three remaining handguns. The third he kept for himself, tucking it absently into the small of his back. He put one of the last two grenades in his pocket, then reached over and did likewise to Elizabeth. They were as ready as they could be.

“We’ll pick up whatever more we could need on the way. Let’s find Carter and Daniel.” Teal’c gave Jack a firm nod, stalking down the hall and taking lead. Jack hesitated for a second, his fingers ghosting across Elizabeth’s cheek before he brought himself back to the here and now. Looping an arm under her good shoulder, he hefted her against himself and took up what weight she’d let him.

Elizabeth couldn’t tell how much of her racing heart could be attributed to the loss of blood, the jail break or Jack. This Jack. Who wasn’t “her” Jack. But was, now. Did he even realize how much he was touching her? What he was doing to her, even here, in some off world prison? Swallowing hard, she pushed against the darkness that was creeping around her vision and counseled her heart rate into something calmer and more constructive to breaking out of prisions.

They didn’t look at each other anymore as they moved down the hall behind Teal’c.

. : ~*~ : .

Daniel winced as Sam experimentally spanned the left side of his ribcage with her fingers.

“You’ve got at least one broken, maybe another fractured, but I don’t think it’s anything worse than that.”

He wrestled his shirt back down, his jaw setting against the heat of the dull but constant pain. “Well that’s comforting.”

Sam shrugged gently, helplessly, her face flooded with worry and concern. “I’ll try and ask if we can at least get a dressing for it.”

“Just make sure you bob and weave if you do.” Carter chewed the corner of her mouth, giving him a dark, gallows humor smile.

Dinner had been waiting for them when they were brought back and was far from the multicourse meal they’d enjoyed before. If ‘enjoy’ included ‘drugged out of your gourd’. Neither of them was in any sort of hurry to partake in this evening’s offerings.

There was also no need to dodge a punch because no one was answering Carter’s voice or pounding on the door. She doubted they’d been left alone, but were probably under strict instructions to leave them to themselves. And probably for their own good, Sam had to muse. The Vistuulians didn’t seem to have a problem with negative reinforcement, and Daniel had already taken a fair share for being insistently opinionated.

Huffing a breath and giving a glib, “Okay then, be that way!” to the closed doors, Sam paused to think about how maybe she was spending too much time around Colonel O’Neill.

Daniel was fingering the sheet on his pallet, already thinking how he could use this in an impromptu field dressing if worse came to worse. Elizabeth was heaviest in his thoughts, but Jack wasn’t all that far behind her, the two somehow twisting into a single, painful ache in his heart. Teal’c was a very near third in the line up, but Daniel had a profound confidence in the Jaffa. More so, he had to admit, then he had in Jack. Jack was just a man, after all. Teal’c was Teal’c.

Quietly, into his chest, Daniel asked, “What should we be doing?”

Sam could only sigh again, raking a hand through her hair as she let her head sink back against her shoulders. “We’re too far behind enemy lines to try for a break on our own. And, at the moment, save their, uh, harsh incentive program, they don’t seem interested in torture. But,” she conceded. “That could change tomorrow.” They both remembered Werner’s unsaid threat.

“So we just sit here?” Thick eyebrows came up over the rims of his glasses.

“Hopefully the Colonel and the others are in a better position then we are. Maybe that’s what that woman had meant when she lied about them being sent home? Either way.” She paused for another heartfelt sigh. “General Hammond will send in a delegation, and then an extraction team if necessary.”

Shrugging again, Sam gave Daniel a small smile, crouching down to rest her hands on his knees. When the moment between them passed, she began ripping strips out of the sheet.

. : ~*~ : .

Ellie felt light headed, but observant enough to note: “That’s a lot of guys with guns.”

They had already had to subdue two more guards just posted outside their cell block and Jack was returning from trussing them up against the first. Each pool of light in the detention center seemed to hold an armed soldier, and regular patrols were walking the parameter.

“They didn’t really seem like they needed this kind of thing back in town.” It was cold and she could see her breath, but Elizabeth’s cheeks were a shiny fever pink, a detail Jack was watching carefully.

Even with his newly aligned perceptions, Jack’s smart mouth couldn’t stopped. “Someone wasn’t telling us the whole truth about themselves? That never happens.” He looped his arm under Elizabeth’s again and made sure Teal’c had them covered before moving. They crept from building to building, pressing themselves small against the walls until they finally came up flush against the retaining wall.

He gave it an appraising frown. Not too high, no barbed wire on the top, and for at least this ten feet of space, no soldiers. Yet. “Can we get over this?”

“I believe so, O’Neill.” That was good enough for Jack, and gave Teal’c the go-ahead-nod for him to do so. Then he boosted Elizabeth up into the Jaffa’s waiting hands before hauling himself over. This was almost too easy, but Jack wasn’t going to question it just yet.

The detention center had to be on the outskirts of town; in the distance they could see the gas lights of civilization as well as the ethereal glow of the Hall, but out here it looked to be warehouses or something.

Jack took a deep breath through his nose, knowing what he had to do, the order he had to give, but resenting the hell out of it every second. He and Teal’c couldn’t do this on their own, and especially not with Elizabeth as she was. No, he had to go back and convince Hammond of what was needed.

“Teal’c,” he finally said, voice hollow. “You stay. Find out what you can, but don’t take action until I come back. Unless. You know.” The Jaffa’s head lowered in acknowledgment. “I’m taking El back with me through the Stargate, and then me and SGs 3, 9 and 11 are marching right back in here.”

He wasn’t really leaving Daniel if he was coming back, right? Daniel and Carter. And Teal’c was staying, so no one was really leaving anyone. Elizabeth swayed a bit, brushing against him as he instinctively made to correct her balance. He didn’t want to do this, but George couldn’t release the kind of firepower Jack wanted to Teal’c. But he would to him.

A war of conflict waged across O’Neill’s face and Teal’c had no idea what it could be about. But he did know this was a sound plan and they needed to get moving before they were discovered. “Go, O’Neill. I shall find Major Carter and Daniel Jackson. I will find you when you return.”

“Right.” Jack’s head jerked up towards Teal’c. “Right,” he said again, but this time with more confidence. Scooping himself under Elizabeth, he got them going.

. : ~*~ : .

“I don’t think....” They had passed back and then through the part of town they’d first come in on and were now crossing the open plain back to the warren that held the Stargate. Elizabeth had insisted on moving under her own power until she’d become too dizzy to keep to a straight line. And even when she’d relented to Jack’s arm under her again, she’d kept her weight as light against him as possible. She had lost a tremendous amount of blood, her chest sticky with it paired with the revoltingly 'loose' feeling of internal bleeding she was unfortunately too familiar with. Sheer stubbornness kept her going for quite a while, but now she was tripping and the world was spinning and lights were flashing behind her eyes and.... "Jack," she slurred as she felt her body giving up.

O’Neill didn’t hesitate, sweeping his arm under the bend of her knees and bringing her up against himself. When her head hit his shoulder, it lolled against his neck. She was unconscious before he even had her settled in his arms. “I have you,” he whispered against the top of her head. “I have you,” and he curled her closer. His lips lingered a second longer before he stepped the pace up to jogging.

. : ~*~ : .

Jack’s predisposition to blow the crap out of things now and ask questions later was almost legendary, but even George Hammond knew when Jack was going for a show of strength and when Jack was just plain scared. And it had been a long time since the general had seen Colonel O’Neill this damn scared.

Admittedly, there’d been some reluctance on his part to just hand over half a platoon of SG Teams armed head to toe, but after getting an update from Dr. Frasier on Dr. Jackson’s condition -- in surgery, rampant infection of alien origins, blood transfusions -- George gave him the unmitigated go ahead. Who knew what Major Carter and Daniel Jackson could be going through?

George knew Jack had something in his teeth and no way in hell was he going to let it go until he’d seen it through. He knew how his Second hated to leave men behind, but this went beyond that. Way beyond that. But it was something he’d have to reflect on later. Right now they had people out there that needed their help, and he was willing to stand behind Jack’s plan, overkill as it may seem on this side of the gate.

O’Neill slapped a round into the chamber of his assault rifle, looking over the men and women assembled before him as the gate sequence carried on behind him. Framed like that, his expression hard, and those lined up before him at strict attention, General Hammond looked down from the control room and had a fleeting moment of pity for who ever had pissed the Colonel off just this much. They were going to regret it, that was for damn sure.

Jack knew this was a more then he really needed for his purposes, but it was also for show. You didn’t fuck with Colonel Jack O’Neill or Stargate Command. Or Earth, for that matter. Not on his watch.

“They want a parade? Let’s give them a parade, people.” The marines in their black BDUs gave him a satisfying ‘Hooyaw!’

. : ~*~ : .

He marched them. It was a far cry from his usual laconic lope or even the loose assembly he used when leading larger troop movements on missions for the SGC. He marched them in strict four by five formation and their steps echoed like precision thunder off the brick walls of the humble town. This was a Jack Elizabeth would have known right away. This was a Jack Daniel had never seen before.

The clipped, persistent sound of twenty-one pairs of feet brought Teal’c out of hiding. It also brought men and women to their doors and windows, but never bought them further then that.

“Report.” Jack also motioned for a man in the front rank to hand Teal’c a staff weapon.

“Daniel Jackson and MajorCarter are not in the detention center as we were, I am almost sure of it.” Jack didn’t doubt for a second how thoroughly the Jaffa had scoured the prison. He wondered how many Vistuulian’s were going to wake up from impromptu naps with splitting headaches. “From the activity in the Hall, I think they still may be inside. If they have been moved anywhere else, I still believe that would be the best place to begin.”

“Yeah.” Jack’s tone was cold and sharp. “They’ve got some s’plainin’ to do.” The Colonel kept the pace of his men brisk but didn’t doubt someone was running down an alley somewhere, warning the Hall. Teal’c fell into an easy step besides Jack, his stoicism lending further weight to Jack’s command position. Men and women in nightshirts went back into their houses, closed their doors. Locked them. They proceeded to the Hall.

As he expected, they were waiting for him. A line up of soldiers in their gray uniforms and blue pips and weapons that looked like the long lost country cousins to what the United States Armed Forces were flashing. They blocked the archway and small bridge that left the city and entered the Hall’s manicured grounds.

“Halt!” An older gentleman, probably Jack’s counterpart, lifted one hand at them. They stopped, but only because Jack lifted his own hand into the air. And even then, he’d waited until he and the other officer were practically nose to nose. The threat that they’d simply run the lot of them down had seemed very real for a second.

“I believe you’re holding my people inside that pretty glass house of yours.” He lifted his jaw, hard brown eyes without a trace of warmth to them stared down his aquiline nose. No, you really didn’t fuck with Colonel Jack O’Neill.

“I certainly have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.” The officer was blinking too fast and looking at a point over Jack’s shoulder. He was met by the blank stares of a small Tau’ri war party.

“You’re a liar, and unless you want to see how we do business on my side of the galaxy, you’re going to get the hell out of my way.” When the man tried to protest, Jack flicked a single finger up and drew a silence thick enough to cut with a knife. Or maybe a bayonet. “But not before you send someone ahead to let them know to have Dr. Daniel Jackson and Major Samantha Carter ready to head home.”

There was a tense moment as the two men stood off, toe to toe and hard gaze for hard gaze. But really, the Vistuula were absolutely no match for what Jack had standing behind him. And they both knew it.

The Colonel’s voice was low and dangerous all on its own but the cold glare he let come along with it made the man feel sick to his stomach. “Time’s up, so what’s it going to be.”

The officer flicked his own finger, pulling a man from his ranks and turning to speak with him softly. He looked past his commanding officer towards Jack, over Teal’c and then the row upon row of black clad, parade resting warriors of Earth. He turned on his heel and sprinted the length of the path.

They crossed the bridge two by two, but fell back into formation once through the arch. Jack kept them marching, their staccato step step step sharper off the crystal of the Hall then the brick of the street.

The Aardvark was at the open double doors, light pouring out from over his shoulder. “Col– Colonel O’Neill. Please. You have to understand, we didn’t mean--”

“Didn’t mean? What didn’t you mean, Cornells.” Raising the extremely serious assault weapon, Jack shoved it against the trembling man’s chest, his other hand reaching out to grab a fist full of his robe to make sure he didn’t go anywhere. “Didn’t mean to half-poison us? Lock us in a freezing cell? Didn’t mean to SHOOT one of us? What part of ‘in peace’ did you people not get.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” It was Daniel. Daniel was coming out of the double doors, still holding his side but now approaching Jack with calculated caution. His eyes were wide for the sheer show of force standing behind Jack, but it was Jack who arrested all of his attention. Jack was a hair’s breadth away from snapping. No, from shattering. Snapping would be too clean and Daniel could practically see the wickedly sharp little cracks running all throughout Jack O’Neill. “Jack. Lower your weapon. It isn’t his fault.”

Jack wasn’t sure that was a good idea yet, so ground the snubbed nose just that much deeper into Cornells’ sternum as he held the man’s eyes.

“Jack. We’re fine. It’s over. Let’s go home.” Bringing one hand up, Daniel let it hover and then eventually land over Jack’s on the weapon, grateful when he let him pull them both down slowly.

Carter’s wide blue eyes were looking over the field unit in the courtyard, finding and then holding Teal’c’s attention. ‘What the hell,’ she asked silently.

‘You have no idea,’ the Jaffa’s curving eyebrows told her.

Finally pulling his gaze away from Cornells, Jack took his first good look at Daniel and all but grabbed Cornells again by the throat. Still looking at Daniel, Jack twisted the man’s collar until it began to choke him.

“What did they do to you?!”

“Nothing that Dr. Frasier can’t take care of,” Daniel said quickly, both of his hands coming up in calming, soothing motions. “Jack, please. Sam and I would really like to get home.” It hadn’t escaped Daniel that Elizabeth was missing and that Jack had said “shot one of us”. He bit his lips together and tilted his head in a well worn expression of tethered exasperation.

Jack turned and gave his captive one last, burning glare before shoving him away. “Right.” Cornells immediately wrapped his hands around his throat, sagging and wheezing as air rushed over his newly released windpipe.

Carter had acquired a weapon of her own from somewhere and waited with Teal’c for Colonel O’Neill’s orders.

Jack was holding Daniel’s line of sight. “Silverman!”

The lieutenant took a sharp step to the left and then a smart step forward, bringing him out of the cube of bodies. “You, team of four. Secure the Hall and get our things back. Don’t let them give you any shit.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Finally dragging his eyes away, Jack let an icy stare drop on Cornells. “Move out.”

In a disturbing sense of deja vu, while crossing the field back towards the Stargate, Daniel found the effort to keep up the pace just beyond his reach. He tried to hide it, work through it, first pressing his palm into his ribs and then just wrapping both arms tight around himself, but eventually even stubborn will couldn’t deny debilitating pain.

“Jack, I don’t--” It hurt just to speak.

Coming up against the man’s better side, Jack slid his arm under and then over, taking most of Daniel’s weight onto himself. He didn’t leave any room for there to be an argument about it. “I have you now, too.”

Daniel didn’t have it in him to argue quite honestly, simply grateful to cling to this man’s shoulder and get home.

. : ~*~ : . Epilogue . : ~*~ : .

“He’s still here?” Sam looked incredulously from around Janet’s office door, peering down the infirmary where both Elizabeth and Daniel Jackson slept in hospital beds with Jack O’Neill sitting in a chair right between them both. It was turned around so he could see each Jackson, his back to everything else. A very powerful statement.

Janet could only shake her head, lips pressed together firmly as she reached around to hang her lab coat up. “I gave up trying to get him out of here. Short of an order from the President, I think it’s an exercise in futility.”

“But they’re going to be fine, right?” Did he know something she didn’t? Was she being kept out of the loop for some reason? Sam turned her head over her shoulder to give the doctor a concerned frown.

“Yes,” reassured Janet. No, Sam knew everything, her expression read. The petite woman only had a confused shake of her shoulders. “Neither of them is going to be fit for duty any time soon, but they’ll both heal and recover and be good as new. Relatively speaking.”

“Then....” Carter looked back out, watching as Jack slouched down in his chair further, arms refolding across his chest. Did this have anything to do with -- well, whatever it was that had gone on between them earlier? Before all the shooting and punching, back when it had still been about just talking with with a Cobbler in a street?

Both the Jackson’s were sleeping, bandaged in one way or another. Because of their respective injuries, they both had to sleep on their backs, slightly elevated. Daniel fewer than Elizabeth, but each of them had an array of monitoring devices, and Ellie was still with an IV. It made them look vulnerable, even fragile to be surrounded by so much white and equipment, Sam had to admit. You couldn’t look at either of them and not feel something like protectiveness wash up somewhere inside of you. But even that didn’t explain Colonel O’Neill’s oddly possessive behavior.

Janet folded her own arms, looking down the length of the infirmary towards the Colonel’s most usual watch. “I have no idea. And he’s not talking. So, I just....” She trailed off, resigned.

Both women watched a few seconds longer before Janet reached out gently to touch Sam’s arm. “C’mon. I said we were going out and I meant it. I can’t even bring myself to think of commissary food.”

Jack sat in his chair, watching each of them. Watched the shadows from the dim lights play across their faces, catching across the bandages and monitoring lines. The way Daniel occasionally held a breath because the rib that had punctured the soft tissue still hurt even under all that sedation. Tracked the color returning slowly to Elizabeth's wan face. Jack sat in his chair and waited.


End file.
